


Disgraceful Behavior

by SnazzyCookies



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:46:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 49,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnazzyCookies/pseuds/SnazzyCookies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From this prompt on the kink meme:</p><p>***<i><br/>Bro topping Dad. There is not nearly enough of this.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Bonus points if Dad is married to Mom before meeting Bro and falling in love with him.</i></p><p> </p><p><i>More bonus points if Mom walks in on them, is amused and turned on, and insists they carry on while she watches.<br/></i>***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dad stood in the freshly cleaned kitchen, washing his prized bakery pans by hand with loving affection in the sink. They were far too precious for the dishwasher. He heard laughter from outside and glanced up through the window to see the boys chasing each other, while Rose sat underneath the shade of a tree, earbuds in her ears, writing away in her journal. John was clutching his stomach, his face red with laughter as he pointed at Dave. Dave lunged at him in retaliation for whatever it was, and Dad smiled, knowing that John had successfully pulled a prank yet again. He watched the children wistfully for a moment, dwelling on the fond memories he had from when he was a boy.  
  
Then his attention was drawn back to the kitchen by the sound of someone with a very lazy, relaxed walk, and then the protesting creak of the poor kitchen table as he put his feet up on it again.  
  
"Mr. Strider, it would be very kind of you to refrain from putting your feet upon furniture not appropriated for that task," Dad said, keeping his voice even and calm. Dad was not easily perturbed by anyone; he was known in the office for keeping and even keel even under the most stressful of circumstances, and people looked up to him as a model of proper behavior. He prided himself on his patience; it was always his greatest skill as a father, and now as a husband and stepfather, as well.  
  
But Dave's older brother hit a nerve in him that simply rubbed him the wrong way, every time. Dad never showed that he felt that way, especially not in front of the boys, because Dave was his son's best friend and he didn't want to jeopardize their relationship by having a problem with Dave's family. So, while in normal circumstances he would have relegated Mr. Strider to the "polite social graces only" category, for John's sake, he put up with him. And for Dave's sake as well; he could only hope that by showing Mr. Strider an example of excellent fatherhood, that some of it would somehow rub off on him.  
  
"Tell ya what," his voice irritatingly smooth and always under control, "I'll make you a deal."  
  
Dad did not acknowledge that anything had been said. He continued to calmly wash his pans.  
  
"You call me Bro like I want, and I'll stop doing inappropriate, dirty things to your furniture, like you want."  
  
If Dad was the sort of character to ever grit his teeth, he would have done so at that moment. But he was above such deplorable conduct. His only visible response was his ears turning slightly red with annoyance.  
  
"Alright, Bro. You make a good argument. Now would you please place your feet..."  
  
But when Dad turned around, Bro's shoes were already planted firmly on the kitchen tiles, as if they had always been there. It always unnerved Dad how quickly the man could move, and he wondered silently to himself what innocent reasons he could have for needing to move with such ninja-like quickness. He decided that there were none.  
  
"You're a bit early for picking up David."   
  
"Dave," Bro corrected, his annoying face inspecting his own fingernails through those very tacky sunglasses, hidden under that ugly, dirty baseball cap. Dad understood that both he and Dave had sensitive eyes. He had no problem with their medical need to wear dark glasses at all times. But at least Dave wore the good, sensible shades that John had picked out for him; Bro just looked like some punk kid off of the corner. Which was exactly what he was. He hadn't even shaved that morning, and by now his stubble was unsightly, even though it was blond.   
  
"Yes. Well, as I was going to say, I was planning on having to feed him and so I made some extra servings for dinner, if you'd like to stay."  
  
"Homecooked meal? Awesome. Thanks, Dad."  
  
Dad smiled, feeling a bit better, before he wondered if Bro referred to him that way out of "irony". Dad frowned.

He went back to washing the pans and then went on to other chores to pass the time. At precisely a quarter to six, he heard her car pull into the driveway and he smiled as his very classy, darling wife walked in the front door, her arms full of grocery bags.  
  
"Oh, let me help you with those," Dad said, offering to take the bags from her. She smiled in her measured way from under her perfectly styled blond hair and leaned over to give him a peck on the lips. He glowed a bit at her affection and carried the bags into the kitchen like any good gentleman would do, while Bro sat in a chair and watched them like the lazy bum he was.   
  
Half an hour later, Dad called the kids in for dinner and they all came running through the back door.  
  
"Uh uh uh!" Dad gently scolded, and all three of them looked up at him with guilty eyes as they turned around and removed their dirty shoes.  
  
"That's better," Dad said, smiling warmly, ruffling the hair on each of them as they walked into the kitchen. "Wash your hands, kids, and then come sit down for dinner."  
  
Dad whistled as he set the good table in the dining room, as the kitchen table was too small for company. He carefully set up six placings, and then smirked to himself as he sneaked over to the windowsill. He reached behind the curtain and pulled out the white rose he'd bought earlier that day, at set it at the head of the table, on his lovely wife's plate. A beautiful rose for a beautiful lady.   
  
They all came in for dinner and sat down as he set the steaming lasagna casserole in the center of the table. Mom looked up at him and smiled sweetly as she lifted the rose off of her plate and set it reverently aside. Dad's face practically glowed. If anyone knew how to subtly please a lady, it was he.  
  
"Dad, Dad!" John said, his mouth full of food as a chunk flew out in his excitement.  
  
"Swallow first before speaking, John," he said calmly. John tried to chew quickly and swallowed a bite that was too big, then started again.  
  
"Dad, I did it! I pulled my new prank on Dave, and you were right, he fell for it! I was like 'hey Dave, want a nickel?' and he was like "Not if it’s another fucking prank, Egbert..."  
  
"John, please watch your language at the dinner table," Dad gently corrected. John nodded quickly and then dove right back into his story, a lengthy tale that included a squirting nickel, disappearing ink, a false quarter with both sides as heads, and various other knick-knacks, and ended with he and Dave wrestling on the ground and John getting a bruise on his stomach, which he stood up to show everyone.  
  
Throughout all of this, the family interjected their personal commentary and questions about the story, even Rose rolling her eyes at "masculine immaturity". That is, everyone except for Bro Strider, whose face never cracked an inch with any emotion, and whose comments remained sarcastic, foul, and under his breath.  
  
Dad was relieved when he finally left. He sighed as he shut the door and cleared the table, John talking with his usual bubbly enthusiasm as he helped his father. Dad regarded his son fondly, proud of the fact that he was so responsible for his age.   
  
That night, as Dad and Mom lay in bed reading with their bedside lamps, he confided to her his annoyance at Dave's brother.  
  
"He is just so irresponsible. I love David, but sometimes his language is so crass, and I know where he gets it from..."  
  
His beautiful wife put a gentle palm on the back of his hand.  
  
"Try not to let it get to you, dear," she said. "He's going to be a part of our life for as long as John and Dave are friends, which will probably be many years."  
  
Dad nodded. He reached over and turned off the bedside light, leaned to give his lovely wife a peck on the cheek, and then lay down to sleep. As a last and final insult, he got no rest, as every one of his dreams was plagued by the deplorable character of Bro Strider.


	2. Chapter 2

Dad whistled as he dug with his spade in the muddy earth, creating a shallow hole for the paving stone he was currently working on for the new path along the side of the house. He looked up at his work so far and smiled at his excellent progress. Both he and Mom had picked out the lovely blue shale stones together, and he'd spent the last few weekends carefully placing them, setting them, and then sprinkling grass seed in the mud around them. It was going to look beautiful.  
  
He set the current stone, this one about two feet across, then took out his level to see if it was set right. He smiled when it was perfect, and began filling in the cracks around it with earth.   
  
He heard the gate swing open, but he was concentrating on his task at hand and didn't look up immediately. He knew the children knew better than to...

He winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of shoes trampling through wet mud. A shadow fell across him and he looked up to see Bro standing over him, arms crossed, staring down at him with those hideous glasses. Dad looked behind him and his heart crumbled at the horrific trail of footprints that crushed his grass seed and shifted his meticulously arranged stones out of place.  
  
"The kids are out riding their bicycles; I believe they went to the soccer field if you're looking for Dave."  
  
"Right," Bro said, not moving, the toe of his dirty sneaker on top of the stone Dad was working with, so that he could not progress.  
  
"If you would kindly please stop standing on my project, so I can begin repairing the damage you've done." His tone was measured and even, not shouting but clearly annoyed.   
  
Bro raised an eyebrow, and then glanced behind him where Dad was looking.  
  
"What? It looks fine."  
  
Dad found himself clutching the handle of the spade a bit too tightly as he rose, so that he could look across at Bro, who was perhaps an inch or two shorter than he was.  
  
"Your weight has shifted my level stones; I have to re-set most of them, now. It was several days' worth of work."   
  
Bro turned back with his usual unreadable expression.  
  
"Sorry," he said, stepping back and away from the path, onto the grass. Dad knelt back down again and began carefully arranging the mud so that the stone would set properly.  
  
"Well I got nothing else to do, and since I'm wasting my time anyway I might as well help you out."  
  
Dad could have become more angry, but instead he chose to see the positive side and accept Bro's offer.  
  
"That would be an acceptable apology," he stated. "The first step is to pull up all of the stones that were shifted, just be careful because they're a bit heavy..."  
  
"Right, got it," the younger man said, bending down and slipping his gloved fingers into the mud, lifting the first fifty-pound stone up fairly easily. He must work out to be that strong, Dad realized, which was an odd thought, since he'd always considered Bro to be lazy.  
  
"Where do you want it, Pops?"   
  
Dad winced.  
  
"Please, call me Dad."  
  
Bro might have rolled his eyes. Or Dad guessed that was what his eyes were doing, since he couldn't see them.  
  
"Where do you want this, Dad?"  
  
"Just...put it on the stack with the others," he said, gesturing to a pile by the fence. Bro nodded curtly once and then walked over. Dad was about to tell him not to drop it and risk cracking it, but then Bro gently placed the stone on top of the pile of his own volition. Dad watched him lift another and walk it to the pile in a satisfactory manner before he went back to the task at hand.

Bro worked steadily and quietly, and Dad decided that he liked him this way. He wasn't such bad company, when he was actually doing something productive and wasn't talking. Dad only had to glance up now and then to supervise him, and he was actually not a bad sight to look at, his toned muscles flexing visibly from under his wife beater as he lifted the stones.   
  
They'd been working together for about half an hour when the heat and stress of moving the rocks made the long streaks of sweat marks on Bro's wife beater run together. He paused in his work and lifted it over his head, tossing it over a bar on the kids swing set, revealing his bare chest.   
  
His muscles were even more toned than Dad had imagined; he had more than just toned biceps, but hardened pecs and a well-defined six-pack, though he wasn't so muscular as to be too bulky. Dad was actually surprised by the fact that he had no tattoos, because that would have been perfectly in character for him. Instead, Dad found himself staring at his perfect, young skin, marred by a few scars that looked like they were from something sharp, but otherwise completely perfect.  
  
Bro then bent down to lift the next stone, and Dad realized he was staring, and staring was impolite. He turned his attention back to his own task and decided he needed a break for water, since his ears were burning red from the hot sun.  
  
"Care for a drink?" Dad said, rising to his feet. Bro paused and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm, leaving a streak of dirt on his face.  
  
"Sure, Egderp."  
  
Dad gritted his teeth as he walked into the house, and he was quite relieved that Bro did not follow him inside. He carefully removed his muddy work shoes and thick gardening gloves by the door before going in, where he mixed up two large glasses of lemonade. He then set them by the door, replaced his shoes, and walked outside.   
  
Bro stopped what he was doing and grabbed the glass, his dirty fingers leaving streaks of mud on Dad's perfectly clean hands. He tipped the glass and guzzled it, drinking the entire thing within twenty seconds, dribbles of lemonade escaping down the sides of his mouth and running down his neck. Dad's eyes watched the little rivers leave streaks of cleanliness against his dust-covered skin.  
  
"What?" Bro asked, catching him staring. Dad's face flushed. From the heat of the sun.  
  
"You should be careful drinking so quickly, you could give yourself a headache," he advised.  
  
"What, brain freeze? I can handle it," Bro said, shoving the empty glass unceremoniously into Dad's hands, then turning to walk back out to the path.  
  
His back was formed from perfectly toned muscles, too.  
  
Dad turned and immediately went back inside, deciding that he needed more than just a cool drink, and splashed quite a bit of cold water on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright, place that one down right there, just so," Dad said, as Bro followed his directions setting the last of the stones. It was evening now; the shade from the trees covered the yard and the heat of the day had subsided. They had worked well into the afternoon and had actually gotten the path finished, which was much farther than Dad would have gotten on his own. He stood up and looked at their handiwork with a bit of pride. It looked beautiful.  
  
"Thank you, Bro, for all your help," he said. "We did a fine job."  
  
Bro shrugged.  
  
"Sure," was all he said, standing with arms crossed, eyes looking who knew where behind those shades.  
  
"Well, I think you worked through an apology and then some," Dad added. "Why don't you and Dave stay for dinner, again?"  
  
Bro nodded, his impassive face not moving whatsoever, as always. "You've found out my secret, Egbert. Feed me and I'll work for you for free."  
  
Dad chuckled. Bro _could_ actually be a funny guy, on the rare occasions he took it upon himself to be slightly civil.   
  
They stepped into the house and were greeted by the cacophony that was once a kitchen. John was trying to juggle three colorful bouncy-balls, and he would have been succeeding except Dave was shooting rubber bands at his face.   
  
"Come on, dude, you can't just juggle, you have to be able to ninja-dodge at the same time or it's not interesting."  
  
Rose was practicing her violin- why she was doing it at the kitchen table, Dad had no clue. His darling wife was already home, and was unpacking her lunch cooler from work while also talking on the phone with someone, and everything was a disastrous mess.  
  
"Everybody stop!" Dad shouted, his voice clear with a heavy presence, so that everyone halted their activities and looked up at him. "The kitchen is not the place for juggling _or_ violins, please," he said, his voice firm but still gentle.   
  
"Yes, Dad."  
"Sorry, Dad."  
"Okay, Mr. Egbert."  
  
Three pairs of thirteen-year-old feet walked out and Dad sighed with relief. There was peace in his kitchen once again. He walked over to peck a kiss on his wife's cheek, and then turned around...  
  
...to see Bro trailing muddy footprints across the tiles of his floor.  
  
Dad sighed heavily.   
  
"Mr. Strider, do you think you could please take off your muddy shoes by the door?"  
  
Bro looked down and followed the trail behind him, as if he was just noticing it right now.  
  
"My bad," he said, walking back to the door, leaving a second trail. But, he removed his sneakers without comment or sarcastic remark. Dad took that small victory as a good sign.  
  
"Alright, then. Why don't we get cleaned up a bit for dinner? You can borrow a clean shirt from me, I don't mind."  
  
Bro only nodded silently, and Dad let the way through the house, Rose now practicing on the couch, John and Dave up in John's room where at least if he broke something, it was his own stuff.  
  
Dad let Bro into the master suite, which was quite a nice size, airy and light with two large picture windows facing the street. While Dad had a nice, steady career, Mom was far beyond par as a very successful career woman and together, they were able to afford a very nice, large house.   
  
Dad led Bro into the master bath, complete with both a stand-up shower and a white marble jacuzzi, with a separate room for the toilets and very large vanity with sinks. Bro whistled when they walked in.  
  
Dad smiled with pride.  
  
"Responsibility will get you some very nice things in life," he said, and Bro snorted.  
  
"Not worth the expense of becoming a stick in the mud," he replied, thinking of his own 'career' running a few porn websites and his questionable puppet business. It was legal.  
  
Dad didn't reply, but only reached into the large linen closet and pulled out a large, plush cotton towel. He set it on the counter for Bro.  
  
"You just wash up as best you can, I'll find a shirt for you to borrow."

Bro only nodded, and Dad left, walking back downstairs outside to fetch Bro's wife beater. He dropped it into the washer by itself and turned it on. He then went back up and rummaged through his closet, looking for something that Bro might be comfortable in.   
  
He smiled as he selected one of his favorite fishing t-shirts, dark blue with a cartoonish picture of a hooked trout on the front. Though he liked the attire of serious business, there were times a man just had to let loose and relax a little, and this was his favorite shirt for that.  
  
Dad heard the door to the bathroom open, and he turned around in order to offer the shirt.  
  
"Did you find everything..." his voice trailed away as there Bro stood in his doorway, wearing nothing but a towel, his hair damp and uncombed. Apparently, the man had taken an entire shower.  
  
"What, and pass up the opportunity to use facilities so sick they belong in Vegas?" he said, but Dad barely heard him, because for some reason he was having a hard time concentrating. Something about Bro standing in front of him, barely dressed with wet, messy hair was distracting. Dad didn't know why that should be distracting. Even worse, there he was, without his shades, and Dad could see his actual face, and his attention was inexplicably drawn to it.  
  
Curiosity. It must have been out of curiosity, because it was always covered by those hideous shades.  
  
"Dude, are you blushing?" Bro asked, taking a step forward, and Dad naturally took a step back.  
  
"Nonsense. I'm just warm from working outside all day."  
  
Bro's eyebrows dropped in an expression that said "total bullshit", and he continued to walk forward, and Dad continued to step back, until he was at the wall of the room. Bro unabashedly closed in on him until he stood not a foot away, right up in his face.  
  
Dad had known that Bro had sensitive eyes- but he hadn't known they were red. They also gazed at him shamelessly, and for some reason, he couldn't look away.  
  
"You got a thing for me, Egbert?" Bro said, his voice suddenly much lower and softer than it usually was; a deep baritone that rumbled in his chest and made Dad uneasy.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm a married man," Dad said, wearing his most stern and serious expression. "I just wasn't prepared for you to take a full shower, so now I need to find you some pants."  
  
He slinked past Bro and went to his dresser, where he knew he had a drawer with blue jeans in it. He could feel Bro's eyes boring into his back as he pulled out the pair of jeans. He turned and handed them out to Bro along with the t-shirt, one hand underneath the neatly folded pile of clothes, the other hand on top.  
  
Bro very slowly, very deliberately reached out his hands for the clothes and covered the back of both of Dad's hands with his palms. Dad stopped breathing as the younger man slid his hands away, pulling the clothes with them. The sensation of his rough palms sliding over skin of Dad's hands sent heat throughout his entire body. He felt himself get aroused. His face flushed. Through all of this, neither of them took their eyes off of each other. Dad had to hold his breath in order to keep from making any kind of inappropriate noises.  
  
Bro's face remained perfectly impassive. His eyes, however, somehow had expression anyway, and in them Dad saw a challenge. Then he turned, and Dad was staring at his ass...no his _back_ , as he walked into the bathroom and wordlessly and softly shut the door.  
  
Dad stood, perfectly motionless, for a very long time. He was aware only of the fact that his breaths came too quickly and that he wanted to think something completely inappropriate. But no. He was a better man than that. He had self-control, even if Bro Strider had none. He was just having a mid-life crisis, that was all.  
  
He turned back around and shut the dresser drawer a little harder than he'd intended to. How rude. How very, very rude. Honestly, what kind of person just walks into another man's house and takes a shower without asking? It was just like that annoying Strider to do such a thing.   
  
Dad was reminded of all the reasons he couldn't stand that man. Frowning, he went down to dinner quite distracted, having completely forgotten to change out of his own muddy clothes.


	4. Chapter 4

Dad tossed and turned and fretted in his bed, unable to rest. He'd managed to doze off a few times, only to have troubling dreams, and then he was awake, staring at the ceiling in the darkness, giving his most desperate attempt not to let the thoughts that wanted to come through.   
  
Eventually he gave up and decided that he needed a distraction. Yes, it was Sunday night and he had work in the morning, but he was already not sleeping and so perhaps a distraction would help. He went down to the kitchen and pulled out some milk and cookies. When he turned around from the refrigerator, there was John, standing sleepy-eyed in his clown pajamas.   
  
"What's the matter, son?" Dad asked gently.   
  
"I had a nightmare."  
  
Dad's heart felt the parently urge to comfort. He held out his arms and John folded neatly into them, perfectly used to loving hugs from his dad. Dad held him tight for a moment, and then he pulled out two chairs and they sat down, facing each other.  
  
"Did you want to tell me about it?"  
  
John nodded, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth so his teeth stuck out, just like he always did.   
  
"I dreamed it was the end of the world, and all these meteors came and destroyed the earth and the only people left were me and Rose and Dave and our friend Jade and we were trying to save the whole universe."  
  
"Wow. That's a whopper, for sure," Dad said. "You always have such creative dreams, John."  
  
At that, John smiled a little bit. "Yeah, I guess it means I'm creative."  
  
"It certainly does. People with boring, ho-hum dreams wind up with boring, ho-hum jobs. And that's fine for some folks," he added, because really, it was, "...but some folks, like you and your Nanna, are just too creative. You'll be going places and changing the world, and you know it, that's what your dream means."  
  
John's face broke into a full smile then, and Dad's heart soared. There was no one he loved more than his son. Nothing came close. Everything he did was what was best for John, and that was the way it should be, and that was what made him happy.  
  
After another hug and a kiss goodnight, John turned and went back up to bed. Dad had the urge to follow him as he watched his back turn the corner, but John was thirteen now, plenty old enough to put himself to bed.  
  
And then, when he was gone, Dad's smile slowly faded. The silence of the night crept in on him, the only sound the clock ticking over the mantle, the only light from the kitchen, all other rooms dark. He never touched his cookies, or his milk, but only stared at nothing, and he could no longer stop the memories from entering his head.

His name wasn't always Dad. Before there had been John, he'd had a different name, a different life. A miserable, sad and lonely life. Oh, he'd loved his dear mother with all his heart, and she treated him like a prince, always baking him warm cookies, always making him laugh with silly jokes. But, for the most part, she was all he had. He had once had friends. He had once had more. And then he'd made one terrible mistake, and lost everything.  
  
Dad's best friend in the whole wide world was Jimmy Green. They were like John and Dave; attached at the sides since birth, always going everywhere together. There was a creek behind Jimmy's house in the woods where they would go fishing and set up their rods and dig for worms on the side of the bank. Every moment they spent together was heaven.  
  
When they got older, everyone, themselves included, thought they'd spend a little less time together as they started to discover girls and go out on dates and be interested in other things besides each other. But, no matter how enticing a date at the carnival with a pretty girl might have looked, Dad always found he'd rather be with Jimmy, and it didn't matter where. At the ballpark, at the movies, in the pool in Dad's back yard, in Jimmy's room.  
  
"We're the two best friends there ever were," Jimmy said as they sat on his bed, sorting through his stamp collection. He looked up at Dad, who wore some pretty nerdy glasses back then, before contact lenses came into style. Dad still remembered the smile on his face. How good it felt to be near him. How he never wanted to be away.  
  
"Yeah, we are," he'd replied. "My mom keeps trying to make me hang out with other kids. She wants me to meet some girls. But that always sounds so boring! I don't ever want to be with anyone but you."  
  
Jimmy's laugh was his favorite thing. He had light brown hair and freckles that came out in the sun and when he laughed they moved in the cutest way. Dad never said that to him, of course, because what boy wants to be called cute?   
  
"Who needs girls anyway, when we have each other, right?" Jimmy reached out his hand and wrapped it around Dad's fingers. Dad's heart raced. It felt so good. He wanted to be closer to his very best friend in the whole world. So he did, he scooted closer, and Jimmy didn't move away.

"Hey," he'd said, his eyes shining as they looked at Dad, so happy, so bright. "Let's try something."  
  
Dad nodded. Jimmy moved his face closer, then closer, and Dad's mind was reeling because for some reason he hoped Jimmy would kiss him and then oh my goodness, he was, his soft lips brushing past his just for a quick little moment and then he pulled away, and Dad's whole face was beet red from his blushing.   
  
"Oh, um...um..."  
  
He could see how afraid Jimmy was. He didn't want his best friend to feel afraid.  
  
"It...uh...um...I..." Dad tried. "I mean, it was nice."  
  
Jimmy's smile was the brightest thing he'd ever known. Dad leaned forward to kiss him again, and that was when they heard the scream, and the crash as Jimmy's mom dropped the plate of sandwiches on the hardwood floor, and then there was the sound of a grown man's feet running down the hall, and shouting, and rough hands yanking Dad to his feet and pulling him down the hall and the last thing he saw on Jimmy's face was fear.  
  
"...such horrid, _disgraceful_ behavior!" Jimmy's mom was yelling as Dad was shoved out the front door of the house, and it was slammed behind him. "Don't you _ever_ come back here, do you understand? Ever!" her voice cried, and Dad jumped on his bike and pedaled home as fast as he could, crying in the street where people saw his tears, and that day, that very first awful day, was the least horrible of them all.   
  
Eventually, his mom saved up enough money so that they could move. She sold their house and bought one in a new town, in a new state, far away. They didn't know anyone here, she said. It was a fresh start, she said. And Dad became determined to not let her down. He would be a model son, this time; a perfect example of a responsible gentleman, a son she could be proud of. She told him she had always been proud of him. But whenever he thought about the horrible things the people in their old town said about her, about _his mother_ , because of a thing he did, his heart broke with guilt. He swore he'd never do such a thing again. This time, he would do it right.  
  
And now, as Dad stared at the wood of the kitchen table in the darkness and let himself remember, he felt more determined than ever to get it right. Not for his mother now, but for John. John needed a mother and a family and a pristine example of a good father, and Dad would provide all of those things for him. How Dad felt didn't matter, it wasn't important. John was important, and Dad wouldn't let his own selfish feelings get in the way.   
  
He didn't move from his seat until the sky started to change and the birds began to chirp outside, and then Dad put away the cookies and milk, untouched, took a shower, and got ready for work.


	5. Chapter 5

Dad whistled as he dusted the knick-knacks in the living room. He had a tried-and-true method: first remove all objects from a shelf and carefully place them on the coffee table. Then dust objects, then dust shelf, then replace objects and move to next shelf. The work was pleasing to him; it wasn't physically or mentally strenuous, but it still left him feeling accomplished and useful.  
  
He was just finishing the last shelf on the left side, replacing one of his favorite photos of his family at Disney World. There he was, smiling with a sunglasses tan on his face, John in front of him wearing a silly Donald Duck hat and a goofy grin. Dad has his arm around his beautiful wife, who somehow managed to still look classy even in a light sundress. And then Rose, with her signature deadpan expression as she tried her best to be a teenager and not like anything around her- yet Dad always saw the glint of happiness in her eyes behind it all and he knew she loved her family. Dad smiled warmly. His family. He sighed with contentment as he replaced the photo on the shelf, and turned to start the next.  
  
The doorbell rang. Dad put down his duster and Pledge wipes and walked over to see who it was. He looked through the decorative window of the front door and his heart jumped when he saw it was Bro. He chided himself for it. He should not be happy to see Bro, he told himself. He shouldn't hate him, either. He should be indifferent about him. He should not care whether Bro was present or not. He calmed himself down and opened the door.  
  
"Hello, Bro," Dad said. The younger man only nodded his head once, which Dad had learned was his form of a greeting, crude as it was.  
  
"Sup," Bro said as he stepped into the house.  
  
"The kids are playing in the back yard," Dad said, and he picked up his duster again and continued to work.  
  
Bro did not move, but stood leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed. Dad ignored him and continued to work as if he wasn't there, carefully removing items from the shelf, dusting items, dusting shelf, replacing items, repeat. Bro watched him silently, making no effort to hide that he was watching, yet not saying anything to make conversation. Normally, Dad would say something to start up a conversation, but he didn't feel like dealing with Bro's crass language just then. So he worked in silence, and Bro watched him, and Dad ignored the red burning in the tips of his ears because there was no reason to feel that, none whatsoever.  
  
Eventually, he finished the shelves on that side of the room. He turned to the end table and began his usual routine of cleaning off one half of the table, then lifting the heavy, ornate lamp to move it to the other half. The lamp, which had a matching one on the other side of the couch, was an expensive antique made of wrought iron bars that twisted in a delicate shape from four claw feet up to the shade. It was beautiful; Mom had chosen it from an antique shop they had visited last summer while on vacation, and she had excellent taste. It was also impossibly heavy.  
  
Dad finished cleaning half of the end table, then lifted the lamp to place it on the clean half, and began to clean the other half of the table. It wasn't his ideal situation, however, because whatever dust had gathered on the bottom of the lamp stayed there. He needed both hands to lift the cumbersome thing and then there were no hands left for cleaning.  
  
"Looks like you could use a hand," Bro said, his voice not as crass as it usually was. Dad didn't answer but of course, the younger man didn't care and he walked towards Dad anyway. Before Dad said a word, the lamp was lifted as Bro held it over the table and Dad was free to dust as he wished. He felt a lick of excitement at getting at those annoying globs of dust that had collected under the feet of the lamp and he concentrated as he wiped them off.

Where on Earth were his manners?  
  
"Thank you," he finally managed, as he crouched on the carpet to get a good look under the lamp. He quickly wiped the largest bits of dust. "That should be good. I know it's heavy."  
  
Bro snorted.  
  
"I can hold this thing up all day. Take your time."  
  
There was something different in his voice. It was gentler. Softer. Dad's ears flamed red. He ignored them. He concentrated on carefully wiping away every last bit of dust from under the lamp, ignoring the fact that Bro's body was so close and that Dad's only view of him was from his thighs up to the top of his pants.  
  
He pulled back and stood up.  
  
"That should do it," he said, and Bro gently set the lamp back down and before Dad even had time to feel awkward, he nodded towards the matching one on the other side of the couch.  
  
"Wanna get this one next?" he said, though he didn't wait for a reply before walking over to the end table. Dad watched as Bro bent his back and grabbed the heavy lamp by two of the iron bars and lifted it. For some reason, the way his muscles flexed when he used them like that was very distracting. Dad avoided looking at Bro's face as he approached and began to dust the second table off.  
  
He cleaned the bottom of the lamp off first, eager to get at the dust that had eluded him for so long. When he was finished he went to wipe off the table. Bro was standing so that his legs were pressing against the side of it, and it was unavoidable for Dad's fingers to brush his jeans, and as he reached for the far corner his face was only inches from Bro's stomach so that he could feel the heat coming off of his body, and for some reason, that made Dad blush. Dad finished and stood up.  
  
"That's perfect, thank you, Bro."  
  
Bro replaced the lamp gently, and when he stood up he and Dad were very close, not even six inches apart, and Dad felt the heat in his cheeks and he had no way of knowing whether Bro noticed it, with those annoying shades in the way.  
  
"Why don't I help you with the rest of it?" Bro said, his voice even and confident. He walked directly over to the shelves Dad hadn't gotten to yet and started taking knick-knacks off of some middle shelf.  
  
"Oh, I have a method. Start at the top, that way when you push dust off, it falls on shelves that haven't been cleaned yet." Dad directed.  
  
Bro shrugged.  
  
"Whatever," he said, but he reached for the items on the top shelf anyway. Dad walked over to the left shelf to demonstrate, carefully removing a pair of crystal candle holders and placing them on the coffee table. Bro was right behind him with a porcelain teapot and the two of them worked together silently.  
  
Like it had been with the path in the back yard, they worked out a rhythm, Bro removing objects, Dad dusting, then both of them putting objects back.  
  
After they'd done several shelves, Dad reached for a picture frame at the same time Bro did. Their fingers brushed against each other. Dad felt heat fly up his fingers and arm and through his body. He did his best to continue moving as if nothing had happened. Bro continued, unperturbed, but when Dad went to reach for the next object, it happened again; the tips of Bro's fingers, the part exposed by his ridiculous gloves, brushed against Dad's hand as he reached for a teacup. Dad continued working, because this didn't affect him, because they were just bumping into each other by accident.  
  
After it happened a third time, and Bro's fingers lingered a little too long against Dad's skin, he turned to look at him. This could not be by accident. Bro came close. He reached for the figurine that Dad was holding with both hands, both of his arms brushing against Dad's arm, and then Bro's hands were there, covering Dad's hands, gently lifting the figurine out of his grasp. Dad knew his face and ears were red now, and his heart was beating faster for some reason.  
  
The shelf was empty, now, and so Dad took out a Pledge wipe and began removing the dust, trying to calm himself down. He felt Bro standing behind him, and then he felt fingers gently sliding themselves around his side. Dad froze in mid-wipe, and then fingers were sliding around his other side, just above his waist, and Dad's pulse was racing and his breathing came much too fast.

He put his cleaning objects down, intending to turn around to say something, because this absolutely had to be on purpose, now. He took a step backward- and found his back pressed into Bro's chest, Bro's gloved hands sliding fully around his waist, and Dad's heart pounded in his chest from how good it felt. His arms fell to his sides, useless, and then Bro's fingers were there, tracing down Dad's arms as his chest pressed into Dad's back. His fingers reached the end of Dad's t-shirt sleeves and then they were gliding over the bare skin of Dad's arms, down to his hands, sending electric tingles through every nerve in his body.  
  
"S...stop, this, Mr. Strider, this is quite inappropriate..." he tried to say, his voice weak and full of too much air. Bro leaned forward, his face just above Dad's shoulder, his breath floating across Dad's neck when he spoke.  
  
"I'm not keeping you here," he said, his voice low and soft. "If you don't want it, just step away."  
  
Dad didn't move. He was frozen still, unable to move because it felt _so good_ , not even his guilt, not even his fear was enough to make him move.  
  
"Thought so," Bro said, and he traced his full palms up Dad's arm now, the leather of his fingerless gloves warm against Dad's skin. He slid his palms up to Dad's shoulders and then down his sides to wrap around Dad's waist and pull him close. Very close. So close he could feel Bro's arousal through his jeans as it pressed into his backside, and it made Dad think about his own, it made him realize that he had an erection. His face burned. He closed his eyes.  
  
Bro leaned in so his lips were right next to Dad's ear. They brushed up against him when he spoke.  
  
"No point in denying you want me now," he said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "Say you don't want me now, and you're just a liar."  
  
Dad squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Of course it was the truth. It was plain for Bro to see. Dad's breaths came heavily as he tried to think, but his brain was drowning in the surge of pleasure he felt.  
  
"So...so what?" Dad tried. Bro wrapped his arms tighter around his stomach, pushing his erection hard against Dad's ass. He should have been horrified. Instead, he never wanted this to stop.  
  
"So, we should do something about it," Bro said, his lips sliding over Dad's ear as he spoke, and then they pulled gently on his lobe, and then Bro was kissing his ear, and the whimper Dad had been holding back came out against his will.  
  
He felt Bro smile as he moved his lips lower and planted a kiss against his neck. Dad's knees grew weak. His heart pounded in his chest. Bro’s lips came back to his skin, over and over, gentle, soft smacking sounds accompanying the delicious sensation, and Dad moaned, very softly. He tilted his head to the side, letting Bro in, and without even thinking about it, he lifted his arms to Bro's to hold him there, to keep him from unwrapping them around his stomach.  
  
Dad whimpered again, and it was a pathetic sound, a lost, scared puppy kind of sound, and his eyes squeezed shut tightly.  
  
"Don't...don't let go," he said softly, his voice making him sound like he was a young, frightened, helpless child.  
  
"Hey, I got you," Bro said gently, lifting his face so his cheek pressed against Dad's, his stubble rough and delicious against Dad's clean-shaven skin. "I'm not gonna bring this out of you and then run off; I'm not an asshole."  
  
Dad's mind was reeling. He was trying to make sense of it, of anything.  
  
"Yes...yes, you are," he said, not meaning it as an insult but as a fact. A small chuckle escaped Bro's throat, the air of it brushing across Dad's face as their cheeks pressed together.  
  
"Okay, you got me. I _am_ an asshole. But I won't be to you. I promise. You're too sweet for that."  
  
Bro's voice was low and deep and soft. For every word that he spoke, Dad could feel his voice vibrating in Bro's chest pressed against his back, and now Dad was forced to admit that it was turning him on. Not just a little, either; Dad felt a steady rush of irresistible want that was erasing his brain and making him ignore his conscience. It was too good; it was impossibly good.

"Then...then let me think, let me...sort this out...I can't, I can't do this, no, Bro, I'm _married_ , let go."

  
He could barely say the words. There was no strength in his voice at all. He knew that if Bro didn't let go, he wouldn't fight him. He was drowning in emotion and if Bro wanted to have him, he could. Dad's disgust at his own lack of willpower did nothing to make him move away. His horror at his own appalling behavior provided no strength for him at all. Even the thought that his wife might come home any moment and find them like this didn't provide enough incentive for him to step away; her hurt face, the fact that he was betraying her, so easily, and then what would the kids think if...  
  
The kids. John. And Dave and Rose, too. They couldn't see this. Dad was a role model for them. So was Bro. A married man did not give in to sexual desires like this, and he would not have them growing up knowing their father was cheating on his wife.  
  
Dad stood up straight and stepped away from Bro. Bro's hands lingered around his waist for a moment but then he let them slide away, just as he'd promised. Dad turned around to face him, anger on his face.  
  
"This is _not_ appropriate behavior. I'm married. I'm off limits. Go after someone else."  
  
Bro stood, his face perfectly impassive and unreadable as he crossed his arms in front of him.  
  
"That's not what you said a minute ago."  
  
Dad stared at him, feeling completely trapped and helpless. He wanted to be in Bro's arms again, more badly than he knew he should admit, more badly than made sense. This didn't make sense. Yes, he'd been in love with a boy once; but after that, he'd only dated girls, and he'd been happy that way. The day he met Mrs. Egbert was the best day of his life. He remembered the beautiful picnic they'd had. Her lovely smile, her delightful laugh. He'd always been happy in his marriage with her. He'd never felt wanting of anything. Everything had been fine, everything had been perfect, until Bro Strider came and ruined it all. Just like his walkway.  
  
"Just...leave," Dad said. He'd expected some kind of argument, but Bro only nodded once, turned, and walked through the kitchen to go outside. A moment later Dad heard the delighted screaming of the kids as Bro played with them, probably squirting them with the hose, or something. Dad remained motionless in the living room, not moving from his spot.  
  
He couldn't move, because his body still glowed in every place where Bro had touched him. His ear still tingled with pleasure where Bro had kissed it, and no amount of guilt or horror that he felt at himself could erase that.  
  
He tried to get back to normal. He started cleaning again, but his guilt ate at him, his conscience chided him, and his desire mocked him. He knew what the right thing to do was. He should distance himself from Bro. He should stay far away from him. He certainly shouldn't trust him; there was nothing about Bro that suggested he was a trustworthy person. In fact, Dad hardly knew much about him. He was just John's friend's brother, and that was all. And darn it if he was going to ruin Dad's life by tempting him to cheat on his wife.  
  
She walked in the front door half an hour later, and Dad did his best to hide his troubled face. He greeted her with his usual kiss, and then the kids came bustling through the back door.  
  
"Get your shoes on, squirt. We're going home," Bro said to Dave.  
  
"What? We're not staying for dinner? Don't tell me you've suddenly learned how to cook."  
  
"Quit whining, dipshit, we're leaving and that's final."  
  
Dave sighed with annoyance and went to get his shoes, and Bro glanced at Dad over the kitchen table with an expression that said very clearly that he knew this wasn't over. Dad gave him a stern expression with as much defiance as he could muster. Bro only shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked out, as if Dad's resistance was of no consequence to him because he knew it wouldn't last, and Dad would come back to him.  
  
Dad stared at the doorway just a little too long, his mind churning with a hundred thoughts and his heart aching with guilt and self disgust, because he already knew that Bro was right.


	6. Chapter 6

Dad and Mom sat together on the swing bench on the back porch, Dad smoking his pipe while Mom sipped her martini as they discussed what to do. Dad's job had sprung a business trip on him for this weekend, and it was already Wednesday. Normally that wouldn't have been a problem, except that Mom was already committed to going to a convention for _her_ job that same weekend, which left them with the conundrum of what to do with the kids.  
  
"I really think they'll be just fine staying at the Striders'." Mom said, carefully lifting a hair off of her skirt and letting the breeze take it away. "I can't find an overnight babysitter at an affordable price on such short notice; I must have called ten numbers. If it was just one night, I'd say let them stay home by themselves. Though two nights, I agree with you, they need supervision."  
  
Dad huffed on his pipe to try to calm down.  
  
"Bro Strider is hardly what I would consider 'supervision'."   
  
"Darling!" Mom said, turning to him with surprise. "That may be the harshest thing I've ever heard you say."  
  
Dad nodded.  
  
"Well, it's true. I've seen the way he... _parents_ Dave, and I don't agree with ninety percent of what he does. I don't want John and Rose..."  
  
Mom put her hand gently on his arm, and he stopped talking.  
  
"Sweetheart, it's just for a weekend. He can't possibly corrupt thirteen years of your excellent parenting in just two days. And frankly, I'd still trust him to watch our children over some stranger. And you know how happy and excited John will be."  
  
Dad sighed. He already knew he wasn't going to win this argument, because he didn't really have one. She was right, of course; Bro might have some issues in the areas of manners good behavior, but Dad still knew the kids would be safe with him. The worst he'd ever done in the past was to let them watch some horror movie that gave John nightmares, and eat junk food that gave Rose a terrible stomachache. Oh, and the time they came home with their clothes ruined because he let them help him paint Dave's room- but the kids would probably get into trouble like that with any babysitter.   
  
"Alright, let's give Mr. Strider a call," Dad said finally, his brow furrowing as Mom nodded with her approval. She nodded and pulled out her phone, and Dad tuned her out as he sat and stared out into the darkness that was their shrub garden. Because, of course, he could not say what he was really thinking- which was that he desperately wanted to avoid Bro Strider as much as possible and if he had things his way he'd cut him out of his life forever...  
  
"It's all set, then. Since I have to leave at 5am, I think you should drop the kids off on your way to the airport."  
  
Dad's heart leapt against his will at the thought that he'd be seeing Bro. He angrily chastised himself.  
  
"Darling? Everything alright?"  
  
"Yes, yes, it's fine," he said, and he closed his eyes and leaned back in the swing. He put his arm around his wife's shoulder and she smiled as she took a sip of her martini.  
  
"Good." she said. "Let's enjoy this beautiful night, now."

______________________________

 

Dad stood in the hallway of the top floor of a ridiculously tall apartment building and knocked on the door. John stood next to him, bouncing up and down, three bags slung over his small shoulders (one for clothes, one for video games, one for homework). Rose stood silently, her attention occupied by her kindle. She'd been whining all week about having to spend any amount of time in a house that was all boys. Mom had told her to suck it up. Dad had told her boys weren't all that bad. She hadn't agreed. So they promised her that next time, she could pick a friend's house to sleep over, and that seemed to ease her concerns quite a bit.  
  
The door flew open to reveal Dave.  
  
"Sup," he said. John jumped forward and attacked him with a tight hug, forcing the kid to take a step back. He pretended to be annoyed, but he hugged John back all the same, and then let him grab his hand and drag him down the hall to his room, where Dad immediately heard the sounds of some loud, shooting video game.   
  
Rose walked in somberly, tossed her bag into the corner of the living room, and sat on the couch, all without looking up from her book. She paused briefly to take out her laptop and put earbuds in, and then she was lost once again in her own world.  
  
Dad stood in the doorway for a moment. He didn't feel comfortable just walking in without being invited; he was taught better than that. He also didn't feel comfortable just leaving without making sure Mr. Strider was home. Eventually, when he never came, Dad stepped into the house and walked down the hall to Dave's room. He knocked on the door frame.  
  
"Hey Dad!" John said, his eyes not leaving the screen as he pressed some buttons furiously, a look of concentration on his face.  
  
"Sup, Mr. Egbert," Dave said.  
  
"Dave, do you know where your brother is?" Dad asked. Dave shrugged.  
  
"Probly his room," Dave then growled in frustration as John dropped his controller on the floor in a fit of giggles.  
  
"Got ya again!" John squealed. Dad smiled warmly at watching the two of them have fun for a moment. Then he braced himself for what was to come. It didn't matter what Bro was going to say, he told himself as he walked down the hall and knocked on Mr. Strider's closed door. This was just a friendly parenting situation, and nothing more...  
  
The door opened and there Bro stood, wearing his usual black jeans and white collared shirt, gloves, hat, and ridiculous shades. And a smirk. That was what did Dad in; he was so unused to seeing any kind of expression on Bro's face at all, so he was not prepared for a smile like that. His heart was already pounding.   
  
"Come on in," Bro said, his voice perfectly confident without a hint of shake to it.   
  
"No, I'm just here to drop the kids off on my way to the airport. I was just making sure you were home," Dad said.   
  
"Right," was Bro's reply. He stood aside to make space for Dad to enter anyway, completely ignoring what he'd just said.  
  
Against all of his better judgment, Dad stepped into the room, his heart racing as his mind told him _bad idea bad idea bad idea_. Bro softly shut the door and turned to face him.  
  
"I can't stay long, I have to be at the airport. Though I suppose we can discuss how much payment you think is fair.."  
  
"I don't need long," Bro said, stepping forward so that he was very close to Dad, too close for a handshake, even. Dad's heart hammered in his chest.  
  
"I wanted to thank you for taking the kids on such short notice. This is really helpful, we were in sort of a bind."  
  
Bro smirked and slowly lifted his hand. _Step away step away step away_ Dad's mind tried to tell him, but he didn't move whatsoever and he let Bro put his palm on his cheek. Dad closed his eyes at the sensation; he didn't even mind the warm leather of the glove on his face  
  
"It's not a problem," Bro said softly. "I wasn't gonna charge you guys."  
  
"Well, there are the added expenses of food..." Dad tried, though he spoke with his eyes closed and his voice had no strength to it. He dared not open his eyes; he could feel how close Bro's face was to his, he could feel his breath brush across his skin.

When Bro didn't reply, Dad opened his eyes, to find himself staring into brilliant, alluring red eyes. Bro had lifted his shades to rest on top of his hat somehow, and he was moving closer, and Dad knew this situation. He had once been in this situation. And he'd been dying to get back to this situation for longer than he could believe, and now that it was here he could not pull away.   
  
He let Bro kiss him. Bro's lips were warm and confident as they pushed against Dad's, and Bro's mouth had been slightly open so that when he closed it, every inch of Dad's lips felt the tingling sensation of pleasure.   
  
"Oh..." Dad said softly, but his speaking opened his own mouth and Bro took the opportunity to slide his upper lip into the gap, surrounding Dad's lower lip into the moist heat of his mouth. Bro kissed him over and over, his lips closing slowly, sliding over Dad's in a perfectly experienced way, and Dad did nothing to stop him. The guilt in his heart was becoming a very far away, distant feeling.  
  
Bro slid the hand that was on Dad's cheek around to the back of his head to pull him closer. Dad felt the tip of Bro's tongue slide across his lower lip and he gasped. Dad's heart raced and his cheeks grew hot. Oh, wow, it felt good. He had never experienced a kiss like this before. His kisses had always been gentlemanly and polite and sweet...but this...this was _sexual_ , in a way that kissing a lady had never been.  
  
Bro's tongue continued to dance over Dad's lips, and he realized too late that he was groaning softly from it. Bro lifted his other arm and wrapped it around Dad's back, holding him close, and Dad became full of warmth in every part of his body. He lifted his own arms and wrapped them around Bro to pull him close. Their bodies pressed together and Dad could feel Bro's erection through his jeans. Bro moved his hips, grinding them together, and heat sang through Dad's body as he groaned.  
  
"Yeah," Bro said softly, and then the kisses returned, and Dad moaned. Bro slid his hand higher until his fingers slid through Dad's hair, knocking his fedora off kilter, and Dad didn't care. His ears burned and his breath came much, much too quickly.  
  
Bro pulled his lips away, moved his head back a few inches, and gazed into Dad's face.  
  
Dad was speechless. He was at a complete and total loss for words.   
  
"You know, I guess I _have_ decided on a good payment for watching the kids," Bro said, and Dad's entire body froze and he was about to push Bro away in disgust.  
  
Bro leaned forward and spoke softly into Dad's ear. "Relax, Egbert. I just want a date."  
  
Dad relaxed. He hadn't meant to. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay angry, he wanted to tell Bro to get lost...but Bro could feel the tension leave his body. He knew that Dad was okay with this idea. More than okay.  
  
He decided he couldn't hide how he felt any longer.   
  
"That would be...rather nice," he said, very quietly. He could feel Bro's smile against his ear, and then Bro started to kiss him slowly down his neck, and Dad wrapped his arms tightly around him.  
  
"You really mean that, don't you?" Bro said, his lips leaving a trail of wetness down Dad's neck that he was pretty sure he would never, ever wipe away.  
  
"Yes."   
  
Bro lifted his head and pulled back again so they could look at each other.  
  
"I know that this is a terrible decision I'm making." Dad said. "I'm aware that I'm about to destroy my marriage by doing this. I know that your intentions are very far from noble and as a result of this, I'm going to wind up with nothing. Yet I'm doing it anyway."  
  
Bro stared at him and squinted, almost as if he was speaking a foreign language. And to him, Dad supposed, the language of responsibility probably was foreign.

"I'm not out to ruin your life, Egbert," Bro said. "I just want one date."  
  
Dad shook his head.  
  
"You do not want only that."  
  
Bro smiled, and Dad wanted to hate him, but he couldn't. His smile was charming and sexy, as was all the rest of him.  
  
"Neither do you," Bro replied. Dad sighed and closed his eyes.  
  
"You are correct."  
  
Bro kissed him one last time, and then he pulled away, and Dad released his arms from around him.  
  
"Look, Egbert, I just wanna see where this goes. I've never fallen for a guy like you before, actually; you're not my type. Dates are not my thing. It's your thing. But I can see how desperate you are. You've been in the closet your whole life and now you're fucking starving. Maybe once you're satisfied, this thing is over and we go back to things the way they were, Mrs. Egbert and offspring none the wiser. No skin off my nose; I got nothing to lose."  
  
Dad was fairly comforted by Bro's speech, as transparent and false as Dad knew it was. Of course, things would never 'go back to normal'- no matter how this illicit relationship turned out. Even if they tried it out, it failed, and they broke it off without Mrs. Egbert ever finding out, he would still have to live with the guilt of the affair for the rest of his life. He knew this. And he was still doing it. Bro's word- 'starved'- was probably a very accurate observation.   
  
"I am putting my entire life in your hands, Bro Strider," Dad said, fear creeping into him even as he said it. "I am under no delusions that this secret is going to be kept for very long, but I'm still going to ask anyway..."  
  
"Hey," Bro said, lifting Dad's chin with the side of his finger, and the sensation sang through Dad's body, making his skin glow. He loved that Bro looked at him in that way, like a lover, like a sweetheart. He loved it far too much.  
  
"Hey," Bro said again, very softly, his red eyes looking directly into Dad's. "I told you, I'm not gonna be an asshole. I don't really know why, but I care about you, Egbert. Like I said, I got nothing to lose. So we'll do this thing your way. Whatever way you want. You wanna keep it all a secret? Fine by me."  
  
Dad could feel himself falling in love. He was watching it happen. Bro being considerate of him, Bro respecting his wishes, several times now in the past week, was winning him over so fast he could hardly believe it. It was absolutely ridiculous that he should feel this way; and yet, he did.  
  
"Thank you," was all Dad could find to say. Bro nodded once, curtly, and then he lifted his hand to his shades and replaced them.   
  
"No problem," Bro replied. "Now don't you have a plane to catch?"  
  
Dad nodded and reached up to adjust his fedora back into place. He took several deep breaths, hoping that his face was returning to a normal enough color so that the kids wouldn't notice.  
  
He quietly opened the door and stepped out into the hall, relieved that none of them were there. The noise from the game in Dave's room filled the apartment, and Dad walked easily past the door. Rose looked up as he passed through the living room and he gave her a smile and a thumbs-up as he passed by her. She rolled her eyes and went back to reading, and Dad's heart sank a little as apparently, everything that was happening was that easy to hide.   
  
Still, though guilt threatened to creep in around the edges, Dad could not stop smiling as he drove his car to the parking garage at the airport. He wanted to; he wanted to keep on the face of serious business, or at least a face of mild boredom. Part of him felt the gnawing fear and guilt and he knew that would never recede; yet a much bigger part of him felt light and joyful and free. He finally, after over thirty years of waiting, had a date with a guy. A hot guy. And he felt probably as excited and nervous about it as he would have felt when he was fifteen. And he could not help how much he liked the idea. He couldn't help the smile on his face at all.


	7. Chapter 7

Dad's business trip went as expected. Two meetings in a row, then a break for lunch, then another meeting. He got back to his hotel room around seven pm, called his wife, then ordered dinner by room service. His cell phone rang and he picked it up without looking at who it was.

"Hello?"

"Sup."

Dad's heart started to race. He put down his fork and shut off the TV.

"Bro," he said. "What...why..."

He heard Bro laugh on the other end; not a mean laugh but more as if he found Dad entertaining. 

"To plan our date, Egbert," he said. Dad swallowed nervously and tried to get his voice back. 

"Right. Um, uh...I mean, I don't know..."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. I just need a time from you."

Dad gripped the phone tighter in his hand. At the time he had agreed, this had for some reason seemed like a good idea; but now, without Bro's presence next to him, alone in his hotel room, he was having second thoughts. 

"I...I feel horribly guilty," he said. "I don't...I'm an honest man, Bro."

He could practically hear Bro's nonchalant shrug.

"Hey, I'm not forcing you into anything. You wanna back out? Just say the word."

The silence hung heavily as the moment stretched on, as Dad teetered on the top of a fence and did not know what decision to make. On one hand he had his marriage, his son, his family, his whole life. On the other...on the other, he had a chance that he wasn't sure he'd ever have again. 

He had to take it. He couldn't live his life past this moment, knowing that he'd had this chance and that he'd passed it up. He couldn't do it. He shut his eyes tightly and watched himself tumble down the wrong side of the fence.

"On Thursday afternoons I usually go to play golf with some guys from the office after work, and then we go out to eat after. I'm not usually home until after ten. I can cancel with them and then not tell my wife, and nobody will miss me."

"Awesome. I can work with Thursday night. What size are you?"

Dad barely heard Bro. His conscience was screaming at him. He stared down at his plate with glassy eyes, meanwhile his heart was beating as fast as a mouse's and he felt a wave of excitement that was beyond anything he could remember.

"Size?"

"Yeah, I'll buy you something decent to wear."

"I have nice clothes," he said, utterly confused.

"Yeah, your usual stuff will work for dinner, but not for where I'm taking you afterwards."

"Where..."

"Nope, I'm not saying. I have a feeling I'm getting one shot at this, so I'm going all out. First half, stuff you like; second half, stuff I like."

Dad felt so many butterflies in his stomach he thought he'd lift up off the chair he was sitting on. 'Stuff Bro liked' induced images of crazy rave parties and back allies where people did drug deals in the corners. Dad wasn't sure he wanted to do this after all...

"So, size?" Bro prodded. 

"S..sixteen for shirts, thirty-six for pants..."

"Awesome. So just come on over my place after work on Thursday. I'll make sure the squirt is at your place; it'll be safe."

Dad's heart was pounding so hard in his ears he was almost deaf. He wasn't sure whether it was from fear or excitement. 

"Al...alright," he said. 

"Great. See ya," Bro said, and then he abruptly hung up. Dad stared at the phone in his hand for a long time, long enough so that when he finally went back to eating his dinner, it was cold.  


_________________________________________________________________________

The hardest part about having a secret affair was not the hiding it, or the sneaking around it required, or the lying that was involved. No, the hardest part by far was how easily it was hidden; how no one suspected a thing at all; how everyone just trusted that Dad was on the level, because, well, why wouldn't he be? They trusted him- and he didn't deserve to be trusted. He was a liar. 

"Hey, George," Dad said, stopping at the opening to George's cubicle on his way back from lunch.

"Hey, Rob. How's things?"

"Oh, fine, fine. I've run into a snag this week that'll unfortunately make me have to miss our usual golf on Thursday, though."

"Oh?"

Dad nodded and took a sip of his coffee to try to calm down. He was not used to lying. He couldn't recall, actually, ever having done it before.

"My son's school's having a read-a-thon event that he forgot to tell me about until the last minute."

George rolled his eyes while he nodded.

"Kids. Always dropping shit like that on you. The wife can't take him?"

Dad shook his head.

"He asked for me specifically to go with him. You know, she's not his actual mother."

George nodded.

"Right, right. Well, your kids are more important. We'll be having less fun without you."

Dad faked a smile. 

"Thanks, George. I appreciate it."

He walked back to his desk with an emotion that was a combination of relief and disappointment. Relief that he'd gotten away with it, and disappointment that he'd gotten away with it. He was just such an honest man, nobody thought to question him. He made himself busy all day after that to try to keep the guilt at bay.  


\--------------------------------------------------------------

Thursday dragged on. Dad must have looked at the clock ten times an hour, both wanting it to go faster and to stop altogether. If time stopped, right now, then he was still a good husband. He was still a good father. He'd done nothing but have one illicit kiss and that was all, and everything was as it should be.

But he also found himself getting more restless and excited as five o'clock drew near. He continually remembered that one kiss...and it made his cheeks flush, every time. It made him close his eyes as he remembered a level of pleasure he'd never known before. That he'd never considered possible. That he was going to have again. And the guilt wasn't enough to stop him, and he knew it.

The day finally ended. Dad said goodbye to his co-workers, and they all said it was too bad he had to miss golf. He got into his car. He drove in the wrong direction on the highway; towards the city, not the suburbs. Bro's apartment was just twenty minutes from his office, even in rush-hour traffic. He arrived. He parked his car. He rode the elevator, walked down the hall, and rang the bell.

The door opened, and Dad stopped breathing. There Bro was, dressed to the nines in a dark gray suit and matching tie, with a blood-red dress shirt that Dad was certain matched his eyes. No gloves. No hat; his blond hair was spiked in a way that was both classy and hot. Lastly, no ridiculous glasses; the sunglasses he wore now were oval-shaped, still extremely fashionable and contemporary but suitable for a high-class kind of place.

Dad was speechless. He gaped. Bro smirked.

"It takes a pretty awesome dude to get me to do this," he said, his voice still perfectly casual and assured, not a hint of nervousness. "Did you wanna freshen up a little before we go? Reservation's not till six-thirty."

Reservations? Dressed like that? Where on earth were they going, a five-star restaurant? How could Bro afford such a thing? Or was Dad expected to pay for his half? He didn't know. Unlike every date he'd ever been on in the past, he didn't know what was expected of him at all. He suddenly realized that he had no idea how this kind of thing worked. 

"You can still stare from inside, you don't have to stay in the hall," Bro said, practically laughing. Dad nodded silently and took a few steps, just far enough so that Bro could close the door behind him.

"I've never done this before," Dad finally managed to say. His voice was not calm and sure like Bro's was at all. He barely kept it from cracking.

"I know," Bro said, reaching out to undo the buttons on Dad's suit jacket, while Dad stood helpless and dumbfounded. "Don't worry; s'gonna be fine."

Before he even realized what was happening, Bro had slipped his jacket off of him and hung it on a hook on the wall. Dad glanced over and noticed a bunch of kid-sized sweatshirts and jackets hanging there as well, and his blood turned cold as it made him think about Dave, and subsequently John.

"This is wrong," he said. 

"You can leave," was Bro's reply.

Dad turned to face him, knowing that the moment where he made his final decision was now. Either he was going to do this or he wasn't. He set his jaw. He stood up taller.

"Kiss me," he said.

Bro was happy to comply. He stepped forward and put his hand on Dad's cheek, and those lips Dad had been dreaming about all day were upon him, warm and moist and more delicious than he'd remembered. Dad couldn't help sliding his arm around Bro's back to pull him closer. It felt too good when Bro did the same. His heart beat furiously.  


Bro slid his tongue out of his mouth then and it danced over Dad's lips. Dad inhaled sharply, and Bro did it again, then a third time, and Dad realized what he wanted. Dad parted his lips for him, and then Bro's tongue was inside his mouth, deep and hot and it was exhilarating. Dad had never had such a kiss.

Then he thought. Yes, he had. He'd french-kissed plenty of girls. He'd gone on plenty of dates. He'd even kissed his wife this way, a few times. But it never felt like this. Never before did he feel such a rush of heat and pleasure this powerful, where he didn't want to stop, where he didn't want it to end. Bro stepped back a few inches, keeping his hands on Dad's waist, and Dad knew his face was flushed a deep red.

Dad's features contorted as he thought, his face forming into lines of contemplation, followed by understanding.

"Oh my goodness, I'm gay," he said. 

He could see Bro trying very hard not to laugh at him. He still smiled.

"Welcome to the club, dude," he said. "You're way late for the party, but don't worry cause it's just getting started." Dad stared at the floor. He felt...strange. Both weak and strong at the same time. Both liberated and tied down at once.

He raised his eyes to look at Bro.

"So you've dated men before?"

Bro shrugged.

"Sometimes. Usually I don't bother with dates...but like I said, you're different."

Dad nodded slowly.

"What's it like?" he asked softly.

"Why don't you find out?"

Bro held out his elbow towards Dad in a very gentlemanly fashion- as if Dad was a lady. Dad smiled a bit as he reached for it and curled his hand around the inside of Bro's elbow, as if he were a lady; except he absolutely wasn't. 

"So, who's paying for dinner, then?" he asked. Bro winked.

"I got this one, don't worry about it," he said. 

Dad nodded slowly. A strange feeling came over him. He was used to being the gentleman. He was used to being in charge of things. This was going to be very different. This was going to be...nice.


	8. Chapter 8

"I do not approve of the way you drive," Dad said, as Bro switched lanes for probably the tenth time to go around a car in front of him that was going 'too slow'- which was already faster than the speed limit.

"We'd never get there if I let you drive," Bro replied. "And I'm taking it slow for you."

Dad's face paled a bit. 

"You drive like this with Dave in the car?"

"What? No, I drive normal with him. He likes to flip the bird for me when we pass old geezers."

Dad sighed heavily.

"You know, I spend a lot of time with my son trying to get him out of bad habits that yours has gotten him into."

Bro smirked.

"That's my kid," he said, and Dad heard the pride in his voice. Okay, Bro might have been on Dad's list of 'top ten worst parents of the year'- but at least it was clear he loved the boy.

Bro made a turn onto a particular city street, and Dad grew wide-eyed as he stared at the places they were passing by.

"This...this is the gay part of the city..." he said. Bro laughed again; a hearty baritone sound that was possibly starting to grow on Dad.

"No shit," he said. "Unless you wanted to go to a het restaurant and be stared at. I didn't think you were ready for that."

Dad stared out the front windshield, his mind trying to process everything that was happening, and not quite succeeding.

Bro pulled up to the curb in front of a very high-class looking restaurant. He got out and handed the keys to a valet, and while Dad was busy unbuckling his seat belt, walked around to the other side and opened Dad's door.

Dad stared at the hand that was offered to him and blushed, heavily. He took it, shaking. He rose to his feet and placed his fedora firmly on his head, and he let Bro lead him inside. 

The host looked up and gave them a pleasant smile; he was a fairly young man, perhaps younger than Bro, even.

"How can I help you gentlemen this evening?" he asked.

"Reservation for Strider," Bro said, and the host looked down and typed something into his computer and smiled.

"Wonderful. This way, please," he said. They followed him into the dining room and Dad had to say, he was impressed. It was spacious, with four very large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. There were real oil paintings on the walls, and though Dad was no art buff, he knew they must have been pricey. Pottery dotted little alcoves around the walls and the tables each had their own candle, set on red and gold embroidered table cloths. 

Dad also noticed that at most of the tables, the couples were of the same gender. They were mostly men, but there were a few ladies as well. Several of the guys turned their heads when Bro walked passed, and some were less subtle about staring than others. But Dad refused to stare at anyone. Staring was rude, no matter what kind of company you were in, and he was a gentleman, straight or not.

The host seated them and offered to take Dad's fedora, which he politely handed over, and they took their seats.

"I don't mean to pry," Dad said, "but are you certain you can afford this?"

Bro nodded with certainty.

"Don't worry about it. Order whatever you want. The filet mignon is really kickass, if you want a suggestion."

Dad smiled at Bro's coarse language; it was such a mismatch to the rest of the atmosphere around them, and he decided he liked it. Whatever else Bro was, he was authentically himself, that was for certain.  


Dad eased his nerves by concentrating on the menu. But once they had ordered and the waitress had brought their water, he had nothing else to distract him, and he was forced to make conversation.

"Have you been here often?" he asked. Bro shook his head.

"Like, three times or something," he replied. "But I figured you'd like it."

Dad nodded his approval.

"It's very romantic."

Bro stared at him; the change in the shape of his glasses not doing anything to help Dad actually read his expression. He didn't know what to say, at first, either. He didn't know Bro all that well; the only thing they appeared to have in common were their kids.

"Thank you again, for taking the kids last weekend," he began. Bro shrugged.

"Sure, anytime."

Silence. Bro was clearly not the talking type. Dad could already see that if there was going to be conversation, he would have to be the one to start it.

"Raising a child on your own can be fairly difficult," he said. Bro nodded.

"He's a good kid, deep down. John's a good influence on him."

Dad smiled proudly.

"I try my hardest to raise him properly. I owe my mother everything for the way I turned out, and I do my best to emulate everything she taught me."

Bro leaned back in his chair and picked up a fork and examined it as he spoke- almost as if he was fidgeting, except he did it in such a way that made him look completely casual and relaxed.

"Never had parents. Had no fucking clue what I was doing when Dave's mom dropped him in my lap."

Compassion started to ease its way into Dad's heart. He knew Bro would never want him to feel sorry for him, but he felt it anyway.

"That must have been really difficult," he said. 

Bro shrugged.

"It's what I get for being a moron. I figured out I wasn't into chicks a lot quicker than you did, but I still messed around with some, and then one day there's this knock on my door and it's some girl I barely remember and she says "I know it's yours because it's got your demon eyes. I don't want it but my mom said I had to ask you before I could put it up for adoption."

Dad's heart started to feel heavy with sadness. What an awful thing to happen! His mind tried to process the story while he did his best not to look too sorry for the man sitting across from him. 

"So...Dave is actually your son," Dad said softly. Bro shrugged.

"I was fucking eighteen. I wasn't ready to be anybody's dad. But there was no way in hell I was gonna let my kid run through the system like I did. So I do my best."  


All of Dad's judgments of Bro's parenting suddenly fell flat on their face. His respect for the man was growing with every sentence that came out of his mouth. 

"You are a very good person, for that, Bro," Dad said quietly. Bro didn't respond for a moment.

"Dirk," Bro said softly. Dad's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"My real name is Dirk," Bro repeated. Dad stared at him in surprise. Bro was suddenly opening up to him, in quite a large amount, all at once. He felt flattered that he'd trust him that much.

"You are a very good person, for taking on the responsibility of being a father as young as you were, Dirk." 

"Some days, I wonder," he replied. Dad shook his head.

"No, you are. You did the right thing. The best thing. You stepped up to the plate to be a father for your son, and I can't even imagine how hard it must have been for you. That is extremely commendable."

Bro leaned forward so that his face was much closer to Dad's, only a few feet away across the small table-for-two.

"This is why I like you, Egbert. You're probably the only dude I know who's ever said what I did was the right thing, like that."

Dad smiled gently as he leaned forward himself, so that their faces were only a foot apart.

"Robert," he said. "Or Rob, for short."

Bro smirked in that way that was irresistible to Dad, leaned forward, and gave him a sweet, gentle kiss. Dad's ears flamed red and his heart pounded in his chest, and when he sat back down he was almost disappointed that the food had arrived, and their conversation had to take a pause.

As the dinner went on, Dad exchanged Bro's trust in him with his own story.

"I was in my senior year of college," he said. "About to graduate. The girl I had been seeing decided that she was going to go back to her hometown after graduation, as was I. So we were probably never going to see each other again. It was our mutual decision to make love," he said quietly, blushing heavily as he remembered it. It had been awkward and strange but lovely in a way, because he had loved her, really.

"She told me she was using...contraception, and I believed her; I still believe her, actually. I guess it just didn't work or perhaps she made a mistake taking it, or whatever occurred. It doesn't matter now. Anyway, we still kept in touch after school, and when she told me she was pregnant I hurried to get my career on track. I had a fairly decent job with pretty good pay when John was born. But she missed her hometown and her family and I suspect there was another man in the picture as well; she didn't stay. She left John with me and I never heard from her after that."  
Bro stared at him across the table with his usual motionless features as he spoke, but when he was done, a clear frown formed on his face.

"Well, better for John to not have that bit...woman in his life," Bro said. "You're a kickass dad."

Dad smiled softly. Gratefully.

"Thank you," he said. He looked at Bro across the table from him, his fine features even more distinguished in the low candle light, and he felt himself falling even more enraptured with this man. He had a newfound respect for him now; and a newfound trust. He had never told anyone about John's mother, not even John.

"Dirk," Dad said, and Bro looked at him expectantly.

"Is it still too bright in here for you?"

Bro's smile was very sexy and suggestive as he reached up a gloveless hand to his glasses and lifted them to rest on top of his head, revealing his eyes.

"No, it isn't," he said.

Dad found himself smiling against his will.

"Your eyes are quite captivating," Dad said. Bro raised an eyebrow.

"Just my eyes?" he said, letting his eyes trace down Dad's chest, to rest on the place that was between his legs, as if Bro could see through the table. Dad's ears burned and his cheeks flushed.

"Are you finished eating, Rob?" Bro asked. "Cause I gotta get you somewhere I can touch you."

Dad swallowed his nervousness as his breath came faster.

"Yes, I'm quite done," he said, his voice weak and showing his excitement. Bro's smirk that followed was even sexier than all the ones before.

"Fuck yeah. Then let's go clubbing," he said, rising from the table and offering his arm once again. Dad took it and rose to his feet, and he let Bro lead him out of the restaurant and back to his car, where his journey into the unknown sharply picked up pace.


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as Bro turned the car on, he changed the music. Something with a deep, booming bass came on and Dad immediately made a face of distaste. 

"People are going to stare at us for making so much noise," he said. Bro smirked.

"That's the idea," he said, as he pulled out too quickly into the road, cutting off the car that clearly had the right-of-way. Dad grabbed the handle on the side of the door. Yes, he was learning that Bro had some redeeming qualities about him; but there was still a lot to his character that Dad didn't approve of. 

He didn't drive far, only a few blocks, before he pulled up next to a nightclub with the front sign glowing over the crowd of people in line waiting to get in. The street was crowded with pedestrians and thankfully he slowed down to an appropriate speed, before turning around the corner and into a parking garage. Dad expected him to stop at the toll, but instead he pulled into the "electronic pass" lane and the gate automatically opened.

"Do you come here often?" Dad asked, and Bro's only response was a smirk and the hint of a nod as he parked the car.

"Time to change," he said, reaching into the backseat for a duffel bag. He pulled it into the front seat, knocking Dad's fedora off kilter. Dad sighed. He was crazy for doing this. This was a bad idea. What on earth was he thinking...

Bro eased out of his suit jacket and hung it over the headrest of his seat, then started to unbutton his shirt. Dad stopped thinking. He watched... no, stared as Bro's broad, muscular shoulders were revealed as he shirked the cloth off of himself, leaving him in nothing but a tight white tank-top. Bro made no indication that he was aware of Dad staring at him- but it was obvious to both of them that he knew. Dad's cheeks were flushed and his heart was beating faster. His throat became dry. He swallowed to try to moisten it.

Bro then reached into the bag and pulled out his usual-styled white collared shirt and a pair of black jeans. He then tossed the duffel bag into Dad's lap.

"You can change in the car," he said, throwing Dad a wink as he opened his door. He stood up in the parking lot and shut the car door, his back to the car. Dad gasped quietly as Bro reached up and was clearly undoing the belt on his suit pants- and then was obviously stepping out of his shoes. 

Dad knew what he was doing. He was being seductive on purpose- and it was working. Dad was helpless to tear his eyes away as Bro slid the slacks down on the other side of the window, revealing red silk boxers and strong, muscular legs. Dad then heard a thwump as Bro tossed the slacks onto the roof of the car and picked up his pair of black jeans. He watched as Bro smoothly, effortlessly stepped into them, shimmying them over his ass because they were a tight fit. 

Dad's heart was pounding and he felt the start of an erection growing in his pants. And he knew he was expected to take his trousers off, now- in a state like this. He should have been completely appalled at such behavior. He should have been getting out of that car and marching down to the street to call a taxi and go home.  
Instead, hands shaking, he opened the duffel bag and pulled out the clothes Bro had selected for him. A pair of black jeans, just like Bro's; and a dark, steel gray collared shirt with tasteful blue pinstripes that might have been respectable underneath the right suit jacket. It wasn't anything too wild, though the shirt was a bit shiny for Dad's taste.

He watched Bro lean his back against the car window and cross his arms, and Dad realized with a bit of relief that he wasn't going to watch. Dad sighed heavily as he slid out of his suit jacket and hung it carefully over the back of his seat, as Bro had done. Not sure if he was shaking from nervousness or excitement, he reached up and unbuttoned the cuffs of his white business shirt, then slowly worked his fingers to open the collar and down the front.

He felt much more vulnerable than he should have, sitting in Bro's car without a shirt on, suddenly self-conscious and strongly hoping Bro did not turn around. He slid on the dark-gray shirt, the smooth texture sleek against his skin and he realized with surprise that the shirt was made of silk. Dad's ears flamed red as he buttoned it. No one had ever come on to him like this. No one, not even Mrs. Egbert, had ever bought him such an...intimate gift. 

Dad had a difficult time wriggling out of his pants. His knees cracked and his back complained as he reached down to remove his sensible business shoes and then worked to pull his pants off. He blushed heavily as his briefs became exposed, and found himself looking out the windows of the car to make sure no one was near them in the parking garage. 

He could hardly believe that he was doing this as he reached down and started to pull the black jeans on. He did alright until he got to his thighs, and then he grunted and twisted and struggled to get the jeans over his ass and up to his waist. They were much too tight for his taste, though not nearly as tight as Bro's. But finally, he had them on. He carefully folded his suit pants and lay them in the back seat, transferred his wallet to his new pants, replaced his shoes, and stepped out of the car.

Bro turned around slowly, and Dad was still tucking in his shirt as he appeared at his side of the car, now wearing his usual pointed shades. 

"Not bad," Bro said, though Dad felt completely awkward in these much-too-tight pants. He felt like he was not covered enough; as if his ass was sticking out for all to see.

Bro stepped up close to him and slowly reached up his now-gloved hands towards Dad's throat. Dad remained absolutely still, his breath rushing in and out of his nose, his heart racing with fear and excitement.

Bro's fingers brushed against his throat as they undid the top button of the collar, and then the one under it, and then one more than that. Dad was about to say something to him, but he stopped there and stepped back, crossing his arms. 

"Hang on, you forgot the most important thing," Bro said, opening the car door and leaning in, leaving Dad to stare at his ass as it protruded directly in front of him.

Bro stood back up and turned, holding out a steel gray, pinstripe fedora that matched his shirt perfectly.

Dad's heart melted much more than it should have. He knew his smile was much larger than was appropriate. He reached up slowly with one hand and pinched the top of his usual gray hat and lifted it off, as Bro smirked and set the new fedora squarely on top of his head. He then stepped back again and let his eyes wander down over Dad's body, making him feel warm and affectionate.

"Awesome," he said. "You're ready."

Bro then reached out an arm towards Dad, and Dad's stomach fluttered wildly as he wrapped it over his shoulders, around his neck, his entire body pressing close against Dad's side. Bro let his hand drape over Dad's shoulder and started to walk to the exit. Dad's heart pounded as they stepped out of the parking garage and out onto the sidewalk. His cheeks burned as he felt their exposure now; they were out in public, as a gay couple, and people could see them.  
Fear tried to creep its way in to Dad's mind. People would see him. People would judge him. Even though he was certain nobody here would know him, he still felt the old sting of his classmates, back when he had kissed Jimmy, back when this had all been new.

But, as they approached the line and Bro led Dad past the end of it, continuing down along it to the front, nobody stared. Nobody batted an eye, because most of the couples in line were gay themselves. Dad became very grateful to Bro for taking him here, to a place where they wouldn't be ostracized and could show their affection without fear in public.

Their affection. Dad's face burned as he realized that the attraction was mutual. Bro had been coming onto him for quite awhile; he had been the one to actively pursue this, and so Dad was certain of his desire of him. 

Bro stopped at the door of the club, having walked past the entire line of people waiting to get in and went directly to the bouncer. And walked right past him with a nod, cutting in front of the entire line.

"Mike," Bro said.

"Strider," Mike replied with a nod of his own. His eyes then wandered across Bro's arm to Dad. Their eyes met and Mike gave Dad a wide smile and a wink. Dad's cheeks burned.

"Even at eight o'clock on a weeknight, this place is packed," Bro said as he led Dad in through the entrance. "Though I don't know why; the good DJ only plays on weekends." 

Dad smiled as he understood.

"You work here."

Bro chuckled.

"You could call it that, I guess."

Dad felt the beat through the floor first, before he ever heard a note of music. He winced inwardly, certain that he was in for a miserable time. He hated loud, banging music that to him was just noise which gave him a headache. He never understood the point of it.

They emerged out of the hallway and a large, octagon-shaped room opened up in front of them. It was dark, lit only by flashing colored lights from the stage and sweeping spotlights from the ceiling. They entered from the balcony that surrounded the main room, with several staircases leading down to the dance floor, which was packed with bodies jumping up and down with an excitement that made Dad tired just looking at it.

He sighed inwardly and held his tongue. Bro had been more than fair, making their date equally likable to the both of them. He knew Bro had put up with being in a fancy restaurant for him, so he was determined to do his best not to ruin the evening.

"Let's get something to loosen up," Bro said, leading Dad around the balcony and then down a staircase to the bar. The music was even louder down here, and Dad's ears hurt as they became slowly deaf. Bro shouted something at the bar tender, and a few moments later an unfamiliar drink was in Dad's hand. He tasted it and winced. It was much too fruity and sweet; he preferred a nicely aged scotch. He drank it anyway.  
Bro nodded his head towards the dance floor. Dad nodded and Bro took his hand, leading him into the crowd of bodies. This close, Dad was able to see what they were actually doing, and he wanted to cover his face at the shameful way most of the couples were rubbing against each other. He couldn't believe anyone would...

He felt Bro's hands rest on his hips from behind him. Dad froze. Bro then moved up close, pressing his chest against Dad's back as he rested his chin over Dad's shoulder. He spoke directly into Dad's ear, which was the only possible way Dad would have been able to hear him over the noise.

"Dance with me, Rob," he said, and Dad's ears flamed at the words. He felt Bro starting to sway behind him, his gloved hands on his hips, his bare fingers stroking gently at his sides. Bro planted a kiss on the back of Dad's neck and it sent a chill of pleasure down his spine. He could feel the beat of the music flowing through Bro's body as he moved, and he had to admit that perhaps it maybe felt a little good. 

He tried moving a bit, just a little sway, and Bro matched his motions immediately. He started to gently stroke Dad's hips, and Dad had to admit, it felt good. Very good. Without even realizing what he was doing, he moved back a bit in order to be closer to Bro. Bro took his cue and pressed up against him, his hands guiding Dad to the beat, swaying to the music that, well, was full of energy and excitement.

The feeling of the dance floor started to infect Dad. Everyone around him seemed intoxicated by it; everyone was into their dance partner and didn't seem to care much about anything else. Dad started to become lost in it himself; the music deafened him and the lights blinded him so that all he could really focus on was how he felt Bro, so close against his body.

"Yeah, that's it," Bro said in his ear as Dad matched his rhythm. Bro's hands slid lower, down to his thighs, and Dad's pulse raced as he heard himself moan.

"Mmmm, yeah," Bro said, and Dad felt him push his pelvis forward, so that he felt his hard erection pressed against his ass. The feeling sent waves of fire through Dad's body and he started to feel drunk, though he was sure it wasn't from that fruity thing. Bro started to rub his hands along the tops of Dad's legs, pushing their bodies together, keeping them close, and Dad admitted that he wanted it. He was craving it. He was undeniably turned on and it was making him forget his manners. It was making him forget everything as he lowered his hands to cover Bro's, to keep him there, to keep him close.

Dad was vaguely aware of the fact that he was sweating, of the fact that his body was tired; but he barely noticed. He was lost in the feeling of the man behind him; in his chest, his hands, his pelvis, his lips. Every now and then Bro would lean forward and plant a kiss on Dad's neck or ear, and it became not enough. It became a tease. It all, very slowly, made him hotter until he wanted more, more than he knew he should, more than he knew was sensible.

Dad turned around and wrapped his arms around Bro's neck, his shame completely gone. Bro licked his own lips to wet them and leaned forward for a kiss, which Dad did not hesitate to lean in for. Before he knew it, gloved hands were pressing against the back of his head, a tongue sweeping into his mouth, and he was moaning into the mouth of Bro Strider, desperate for more as their pelvises ground together to the beat of the amazing music.

"We could take this further at my place," Bro said, and Dad's pulse raced at the idea. He barely remembered to check his watch. It was nine-thirty. He'd have to leave now to make it home on time in order for his wife to not suspect anything.

Bro ground his pelvis into him and Dad moaned. He didn't care. He wanted this too much, too badly. He didn't care.

"Let's," he whispered into Bro's ear, which he then kissed, enjoying the fact that it made Bro groan.


	10. Chapter 10

Dad was in a daze as Bro led him out of the crowd and back out to the door. Not even the cool air outside was enough to snap Dad back to his senses. He hurried with Bro to his car, where Bro made no attempt to hide the rush he was in as he turned the ignition.   
  
"I have to make up some excuse why I won't be home..." Dad said, thinking, as he pulled out his cell phone and stared at it. It was all so surreal. Bro peeled out into the road, and Dad didn't care about his driving. He wanted him to drive faster. He was overcome with want such that he'd never thought possible. He suddenly lost all judgment of promiscuity he'd ever made on anyone. He was going to do this. He was going to be with another man.  
  
"Oh, God," he said, as he thought about it; his nerves flying wildly through him, fear, nervousness, excitement, guilt.   
  
"Yeah," was all Bro said, and he turned the music off so Dad could make his phone call.  
  
He dialed.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hello, darling, it's me."  
  
"What's the matter?" was her reply. She must have heard the difference in his voice. He thought quickly.  
  
"I'm not going to make it home tonight," he blurted out.   
  
"What? Why in heavens not?"  
  
"Jake's wife's flight was delayed, and she's stuck in Chicago for the night. He still has to go to work in the morning, so I offered to stay and get his kids ready for school tomorrow."  
  
He couldn't believe his lie. He saw on Bro's face that he couldn't believe Dad had concocted such a story, either.   
  
"Oh, darling, that's so kind of you. You're always such a gentleman."  
  
Guilt ate at Dad and threatened to swallow him whole. He was, without a doubt, a horrible, awful husband.  
  
"It's just the right thing to do," he managed.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright, dear? You sound...odd."  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. Just very tired from golf; it was a grueling game."  
  
"Well, okay then. I'll give John a goodnight kiss for you."  
  
A knife twisted in Dad's heart and threatened to break it. This was a mistake; he couldn't do this, he couldn't...  
  
"Thank you, darling."  
  
"Get some rest, now. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."  
  
Holy shit, he couldn't say this, how could he say...  
  
"Love you, too."  
  
She hung up. Dad stared at the phone in his hands, his heart empty and cold.   
  
"I'm a disgusting human being."  
  
They arrived back at Bro's apartment just then, and he parked the car and shut it off.  
  
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Bro said, his voice sincere. "I’m just fine if you wanna sleep on the couch..."  
  
"No," Dad said, the guilt eating at him, but not nearly as fast as his excitement, as his desire. "Now that I've lied, we're going to make good use of it."  
  
" _Hell_ yes," Bro said, and immediately got out of the car. Dad let himself out this time and grabbed his suit from the back seat, careful not to wrinkle it. Bro grabbed the duffel bag and Dad followed him up into the apartment building, a complete and total stranger to himself. He never thought, or even dreamed, that he'd be in a situation like this ever again; and now that he had the chance, he was not going to miss it; not for his wife, not for his morals; not even for John.

Dad's guilt ate at him as they walked into Bro's apartment building, though it faded some when they stepped into the elevator and Bro slipped his arm around Dad's waist, pulling him close. His cheeks tinted pink and his heart beat a little faster, his guilt moving to the back of his mind.  
  
Bro opened the door and Dad was greeted by the usual mess that was the Strider residence. Kids clothes strewn about in the living room, sneakers that were too small for Bro, and a pile of unfinished seventh-grade homework on the coffee table started to stir the guilt in Dad's mind again.  
  
"Where is Dave tonight?" he asked. Bro chuckled.  
  
"Sleeping at your house, duh."  
  
Right. With John. Dad shut his eyes as the weirdness, the wrongness of this situation played through his mind. Dave was with John, so he could be with Bro.   
  
A gloved palm rested on his cheek, and Dad opened his eyes to find Bro gazing at him from only a few inches away, his shades on top of his head, his gorgeous eyes exposed and gazing directly into him, and inwardly, he melted.  
  
"Kiss me," Dad whispered, and Bro didn't hesitate to oblige. His warm lips came easily to Dad's, his tongue gliding over Dad's lips until they parted, teasing its way inside his mouth until Dad found himself invaded by Bro's tongue. He inhaled sharply and lifted his hands to Bro's face, pulling him closer, oh, how he wanted him closer; it felt so good, so impossibly good. Bro was an excellent kisser; he opened his mouth with urgency and then slowly closed his lips around Dad's, creating a perfect frictional sensation that lasted as long as possible before he had to open his lips again. Dad found himself fiercely drawn to needing more, lifting his own tongue to meet Bro's, the taste of him intoxicating.  
  
Bro grunted softly and Dad felt his erection harden at the sound of his deep, male voice. Dad inhaled and his lungs were filled with the faint scent of aftershave and something else, and his heart pounded because it was so distinctly _male_. He slid his hands down from Bro's face and wrapped his arms tightly around his back, pulling the younger man close to his body. He felt Bro's hard penis press against his and he groaned, deeper than he expected to. He felt Bro's lips upturn in a smirk.  
  
"Why don't we head to my room," he said softly, pulling his lips gently away, and Dad said nothing as Bro turned and led him down the hall to the door through which Dad had had his first kiss.   
  
His first kiss. What an odd thought. He'd had hundreds of kisses from ladies before he'd kissed Bro; and yet somehow, none of them counted, none of them mattered now as Dad stepped through Bro's door, and he shut it softly behind him.  
  
Bro stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Dad, one around his stomach, the other crossing his chest. He pushed their bodies close together, pressing his hard erection against Dad's ass and his toned chest against Dad's back. Dad groaned and leaned back, his eyes half-closed, absolutely uninterested in the objects in the room, his mind barely registering that it was an even worse disastrous mess than the living room.  
  
Bro pressed his lips against Dad's neck. Dad moaned softly and his head tilted, eager to let Bro closer. His fedora was knocked off kilter and he didn't care. Bro set soft, slow kisses down his neck to his collar, each sensation of his lips and tongue on his skin sending tingles of pleasure across his nerves. Bro pulled Dad's skin into his mouth and sucked gently, and Dad only moaned, unable to stop him or even to remind him to be careful to not leave marks. But Bro of course knew that; and in a few seconds he pulled away and went back to gentle, slow kisses. Then he slowly slid his tongue from the base of Dad's neck up to his ear.  
  
"Ohhh..." Dad shuddered, his ear turning bright red as Bro nibbled on his lobe. He groaned softly into it, and Dad's heart raced wildly at the low bass sound that was his voice. Bro slid his hands slowly up Dad's chest until they reached the highest closed button, and Dad's world shrank and became nothing but Bro Strider's fingers as he slowly undid the buttons on Dad's shirt.

He reached Dad's belt and started to tug up on the cloth, pulling the shirt out from the confines of his black jeans. When it was free, Bro slid his palms up to Dad's stomach, his fingertips and gloves pressing against Dad's bare skin. Dad groaned as Bro slid his hands slowly up his chest, rubbing his fingertips in slow, lazy circles, sending tickling shudders through him, forming goosebumps on his skin.  
  
Bro's fingers reached his nipples and he stopped there to tease them. Embarrassment flamed in Dad's cheeks but was very quickly replaced by the delicious sensation of that sang through him. No lady had ever touched him this way before; no one had ever touched him like this; come on to him like this, worked with such diligence to make him aroused like this.  
  
Bro moved his kisses to the back of his neck, now, and Dad leaned his head forward, letting him, welcoming him. Bro's fingertips gliding over his nipples had them hard and sensitive, now, and Dad was so lost in the sensation that when Bro moved away, he whimpered with disappointment.   
  
"You poor thing, you've been so deprived," Bro said softly, his voice heavy and lustful as he said one of his ridiculous lines that a month ago, Dad would have wrinkled his nose at with distaste. But now he felt Bro could say anything and it would only turn him on further.   
  
He held his breath as Bro's palms slid up to his shoulders and parted his shirt, the shirt he gave him, sliding it off of his shoulders. Dad let his arms fall to his sides, letting the gloved hands slide the silk cloth off of his body. The cool air of the room did little to quell the heat he felt. He didn't even pay attention to what Bro did with the shirt after it was off of him; he didn't care.   
  
When Bro's hands didn't immediately return, Dad turned around to see what he was up to. Their eyes locked and Bro smirked as he reached up and started to undo the buttons on his own shirt. Dad was helpless to turn his eyes away as young, tight skin stretched over finely toned abdomen muscles was revealed to him. Bro shrugged out of his shirt effortlessly, letting it slide from his shoulders and catching it in one hand before he hung it casually on the back of his desk chair.  
  
Dad's eyes traced up and down and over Bro's chest, his face burning with embarrassment and heat as he openly stared. Bro only smirked and stood with a comfortable casualness that Dad found impressive and irresistibly attractive. Bro was not, all of a sudden, some young, immature "barely old enough to be an adult" man in Dad's eyes. He was suddenly the more experienced, more knowledgeable person between the two of them. He knew exactly what he was doing, while Dad had nothing but a vague clue and a level of desperateness that was making him forget himself.  
  
"It's okay, you can touch," Bro said with a wink, as he reached up to remove the shades that rested on his forehead completely, setting them on his desk. He then peeled off his gloves, discarded them, and stepped forward and plucked Dad's fedora off of his head. The fedora he'd given him. Dad closed his eyes.  
  
Strong, bare hands were on his shoulders. They traced down his chest, shamelessly teasing his nipples again, and his face somehow flamed hotter. He opened his eyes and found himself gazing into very close, brilliant red irises.  
  
"Touch me," Bro whispered, and Dad slowly lifted shaking hands to place them on Bro's naked waist. His skin was warm and soft, but underneath it he didn't feel the gentle curves of a woman but the firmness of _muscle_. He wanted more. He traced his palms over that fine stomach, and Bro gave him a very soft moan of encouragement.

"Yeah, that's it. Touch me, baby," Bro said softly, bringing one hand up to Dad's cheek, sliding the backs of his fingers over it. The thinking part of Dad's mind was beginning to shut down. His wife and family were distant memories to him. His world was now the half-naked young man in front of him, a man asking him to touch him, a man who was stroking his cheek and had just called him 'baby'.  
  
A wall that Dad had been unaware of was trembling under the incredible pressure of the situation he was in. His palms slid over Bro's chest, his fingers tracing the contours between his muscles, his hands caressing the pectoral muscles underneath the flat nipples, and it was sexy. Bro was _sexy_ , and Dad felt a rush as he overcame his nerves and stroked Bro's nipples with his thumbs.  
  
Bro moaned softly, letting his eyelids close a bit, and the wall that Dad had only just realized was there crumbled to pieces at the sound. He stroked Bro's nipples steadily now, his heart racing at the idea that he was causing him sexual pleasure. He saw a tint of pink in Bro's cheeks and Dad wanted to make it brighter, redder. He leaned forward and kissed Bro's neck, burying his lips into his flesh. Bro groaned and pulled Dad closer to him, his palms tickling his sides, then around to his lower back, then down to stroke his ass.   
  
"Uhhh..." Dad said softly into Bro's skin as he felt his hands rubbing circles on his ass. Bro's skin tasted amazing, and he could hardly believe that he was here, doing this, kissing his neck, his hands pressing ever more firmly into Bro's body as he touched him, everywhere, his stomach, his chest, his sides, his back. He wanted to touch him, everywhere, and he wanted Bro to touch him back, and oh, oh...  
  
 _oh_. Bro slid one hand over Dad's thighs while he kept the other on his ass. He rubbed the heel of his hand on Dad's thigh, moving closer to his erection, and his heart pounded and his blood burned as Bro rubbed his palm over the lump in Dad's jeans. He collapsed forward, his knees weak, as he held onto Bro's body and buried his face into his neck.   
  
Dad groaned softly as Bro palmed him, rubbing him, holding him tightly by pressing on his ass with his other hand. Without even fully realizing it, Dad pushed his hips forward, leaning into Bro's touch, his heart racing with fire.   
  
Bro's fingers slid slowly up to the button on Dad's jeans. He easily undid them with a practiced skill and pulled the zipper down, revealing Dad's sensible white briefs. He slipped his hand over the soft cotton, and Dad groaned as he wrapped his arms more tightly around Bro's body, both to keep him close and to hold himself up. He shook.  
  
Bro wrapped his fingers around his shaft as far as he could with the cloth in the way and squeezed.   
  
"D'ah, uh!" Dad cried, his hips bucking forward.  
  
"Oh, I know," Bro replied, his lips brushing over Dad's earlobe as he spoke. "It's only gonna get better, darlin'."  
  
Bro pushed Dad gently back towards the bed. It was only a few steps away, and before he knew it, he was leaning back, lying face-up on a strange bed while the owner of that bed crawled on top of him.  
  
Dad scooted back until his head rested on the pillow, and he watched with excitement as Bro crawled on top of him, his shoulders flexing as he moved. He crushed Dad's head into the pillows with a heavy kiss, his tongue teasing Dad's to come out, his hands exploring Dad's body once again. Dad reached up to pull Bro to him and felt their bare chests rub together, Bro's body covering him, holding him down. He held Bro tightly and kissed his ear.  
  
"I see you made your bed," Dad said. Bro chuckled.  
  
"Just for you, darlin'. I knew you wouldn't resist me."  
  
Dad chuckled softly.  
  
"Are you always so conceited, or is that just a show for me?"  
  
Bro smiled as he rose up onto his knees.  
  
"Oh, it's not conceit; my irresistibility is a damn fact," he said, and then he raised his fingers up to his own fly.

Dad was helpless to do anything but stare as he watched Bro undo his pants. Those silk red boxers were revealed to him again, and this time as Bro wriggled out of his tight pants, Dad was watching with a different view.  
  
He saw Bro's erection tenting through the cloth, and Dad moaned softly at the sight of it. He shook and without waiting for an invitation, losing all of his senses, he reached up eagerly to wrap his fingers around that silky red lump.  
  
"Mmmm...so impatient," Bro said, that delicious smirk plastered to his face. Dad only returned it as he slid his hand down to Bro's base and then back up again, feeling Bro in his fingers.  
  
"Like you said, I'm desperate," Dad said, surprised at his own flirtatious tone. "It's a very unusual situation for me, but I don't feel that I want to be very patient."  
  
"Hell yes," Bro said, and then he moved so he was on top of Dad and straddled him. He brought their lips together again and then ground his hips down, rubbing his hardness against Dad's. Pleasure, pleasure was all Dad knew as Bro ground into him, his arms flexing, his stomach rolling as he teased Dad's penis with his own, rubbing them together. It was heat and fire and Dad expressed it all on those lips, with kisses and licks that were messy and hot.   
  
Dad groaned and raised his hips up to meet Bro's, and Bro smiled as his hands slid down Dad's side and into the waist of his pants. He pulled away for a moment and Dad's heart raced furiously with heat and embarrassment and nervousness as he allowed Bro to take his pants off, leaving them tossed unwanted on the floor.   
  
He slinked his body back up and began to grind Dad again, his boxers against Dad's briefs, his hips and ass moving with a precise, amazing rhythm that made it easy for Dad to push back up against. The heat built up, the pleasure rose, and Dad hardly noticed that he was sweating. Bro pulled back from the kiss, his breaths coming faster, the heat flowing over Dad's face and neck.  
  
Bro pulled up and slid his fingers slowly down Dad's abdomen, toying with the waistband of his briefs.  
  
"Yes," Dad said. "Please."  
  
His pulse raced as Bro pulled down. Dad lifted his hips so Bro could more easily remove his last bit of clothing. He felt waves of pulsing heat as he felt himself become exposed. Bro's cheeks were flushed quite red now as his fingers rose to remove his own boxers.   
  
Dad swallowed, trying to keep his throat from becoming too dry as Bro rose up to his knees and slid his boxers down. For the first time in his life, Dad was looking at another man's erection.  
  
 _Yes, yes, yes_ was all he was capable of thinking. Bro crawled back on top of him, fully naked, and Dad was already wrapping his fingers around Bro's shaft. Oh, it was warm; so so warm, so soft, so supple, yet firm and solid. He'd never done this before to someone else and it gave him an excitement beyond anything he'd expected.  
  
He pulled down firmly and slowly, coaxing a long, deep moan out of Bro's throat. Dad's attention was fully on his hand, on the sensation of holding a dick in it, and his heart flew wildly in his chest. Oh, wow, it felt so good to touch another penis. Oh, oh, wow.   
  
He slid his thumb up over the tip, smearing the pre-cum over it, creating a nice, slick surface to easily rub his thumb over before he pulled down again, slow and firm.  
  
"Shit, Egbert, you're a fucking damn good tease," Bro said. Dad smirked.  
  
"Am I, now?" he said. Bro smirked back and didn't reply, but he lowered his eyes from Dad's face to look down at his exposed erection, and Dad's blood burned. He was seriously considering asking for Bro to touch him when he did exactly that, brushing his fingertips lightly up Dad's length, from base to tip, before sliding his palm around him and pulling down firmly.  
  
Dad groaned, pleasure singing through him in waves as he closed his eyes. Bro's strokes were firm and sure as he mimicked Dad's slow rhythm, and Dad could do nothing but fully focus on the situation that he'd been dying to feel for over twenty years.


	11. Chapter 11

Bro shifted and straddled Dad once again, lowering his hips until their fingers brushed together. Gently, Bro eased Dad's hand off of his dick and then pressed the two of their lengths together with his fingers.   
  
"Oh, oh, uhhhh...ohhhhhhh..." Dad said, as Bro held him steady and began to thrust, rubbing his penis along Dad's, using his hand to keep them pressed together. Every muscle in Dad's body tensed as he felt incredible pleasure. He alternated between squeezing his eyes shut to focus on the feeling, and keeping them wide open to stare at the sexy person above him.   
  
Dad felt the heat start to rise and the pressure start to build to an intensity that he knew he wouldn't be able to contain. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had an orgasm with another person present. It had been that long. It had been almost forever.  
  
Bro stopped. The pleasure ceased to climb towards its peak and hovered for a moment, then began to sink.   
  
"Why..." was all Dad managed before Bro was sliding back and lowering his lips to Dad's penis.  
  
"Oh, oh, God," he said as Bro licked the flat part of his tongue from base to tip, and then repeatedly, slowly licked the slit, clearly enjoying the flavor of Dad's precum. Bro's face was radiating pleasure as he slowly teased Dad, raising his eyes up to meet his several times, making Dad melt. It was all he could do to lift his hands up to Bro's head to tangle his fingers in his hair.  
  
Bro opened his mouth and took Dad into him, much, much deeper than Dad had expected. He cried out with surprise.  
  
"Holy moly, oh my, oh...!"  
  
Bro sealed his lips around Dad and sucked.  
  
"Unf!" was all Dad managed as he stared up at the ceiling, Bro's lips squeezing him tightly as he pulled his lips slowly up, and then sank them deliciously down again, over and over, much too slowly, and it was much too hot.  
  
"I...I...can't take much more!" Dad cried, and Bro slid up and gave him one more playful lick before rising up and stretching his neck.  
  
"Don't wanna end this night just yet," Bro said with a wink. Dad's entire being was swimming in lust. He only agreed.  
  
His eyes fell to Bro's erection. He knew what he wanted.  
  
Bro saw his gaze and nothing needed to be said. Dad rose up onto his knees and Bro lay down on his back in his place. Dad traced his hands eagerly over the younger pair of hips, taking Bro's penis into both of his hands at once, stroking him lightly, teasingly.  
  
Dad said nothing as he bent his head forward, not even managing to feel awkward or nervous about what he was going to do. He only felt eager and excited, and with almost a sense of relief, he lowered his lips to kiss his first dick. He whined and shut his eyes, bringing one hand up to hold Bro steady underneath as Dad placed firm, reverent kisses down to the base. He inhaled Bro's musky smell deeply, hot desire racing through him as he savored what it was he was doing.   
  
He planted kiss after kiss after kiss, up one side and down the other, then up the middle, over and over. He had no words to describe what he was feeling; things like "excited" and "hot" didn't even begin to compare. Bro groaned under the attention of his lips, and as Dad reached out his tongue to taste cum for the first time, a deep, wracking sob escaped him. He was finally where he'd wanted to be for longer than he could remember; and a few tears of relief and joy escaped his eyes. He was gay. He was loving it. He was free.  
  
With simultaneous admiration and lust, he parted his lips and took Bro's tip into his mouth. Bro moaned softly, and Dad felt his fingers stroking his hair as he felt his soft, firm flesh in his mouth. He knew there was a certain way of doing this properly, and he knew he wasn't nearly accomplishing that, but from the soft groans Bro was making, he knew it didn't matter.  
  
Dad slid as much of Bro into his mouth as he could, and then savored the sensation of squeezing him with his lips as he pulled back up. He took Bro into his mouth again, slowly, deliberately relishing every moment. He tried his best to follow the example Bro had set earlier, and though he knew he wasn't as good at it, he hardly cared.

Bro seemed to hardly care, either, as his grunts turned into nearly full moans, his dick flushed nearly purple as Dad teased him with his tongue.  
  
"Mmmph..." Bro said, holding Dad's head with both hands as he bucked his hips, shoving himself further into Dad's mouth than he was ready for. He gagged and pulled back, and his cheeks would have flushed further if it had been possible.  
  
"Shit, my bad," Bro said.   
  
Dad raised his eyes to him, his cheeks flaming red as he couldn't believe what he was going to say.  
  
"Try that again," he said. Bro only grinned and laid his head back on the pillows as Dad slid his hand around the base of Bro's dick to hold him steady while he slipped his lips back around him.   
  
This time he was ready, and when Bro thrust, Dad held himself still and let him in. Bro started to buck his hips again, keeping a steady rhythm, not going in too deeply but still far enough to please himself. Dad could hardly take in everything at once; the sight of Bro's abdomen, the feel of him in his mouth, the smell of his body so close, the sound of his voice. Dad groaned from the pleasure.  
  
Bro moaned in response and started to slide in and out of his mouth rather quickly, all of a sudden, his breath rushing in and out of his mouth with heavy panting and Dad's heart raced with anticipation and excitement.   
  
"Fuck, Egbert," Bro said softly, and Dad pressed his tongue against Bro as he moved. "If this isn't what you're after tonight, you should pull up."  
  
Oh, this was what he was after. He moved his hands up to Bro's hips to make it clear he wasn't going anywhere, and Bro got the message. He thrust even quicker up into Dad's mouth as the older man panted through his nose, not getting enough air and not caring. With one more soft grunt Bro came, hot salty liquid pouring into Dad's mouth. He still coughed a bit and most of it dribbled right back out, but he composed himself as Bro shuddered out the last bits of pleasure. He sucked his lips with a tight seal as he pulled off for the last time, licking every last drop off, the taste strange and distinct; like nothing else he'd ever tasted.  
  
He sat up fully and looked down at Bro's flushed face.  
  
"Damn, Egbert."   
  
Dad gave him a sheepish smile.  
  
"I hope that was satisfactory."  
  
Bro sat up and twisted around, pushing on Dad's shoulders so that he was lying again.  
  
"It was enough," Bro said. "But it was how much _you_ enjoyed it, fuck. Fuck," Bro said, placing kisses down Dad's stomach until he reached the tip of his cock, and he began to return the favor.  
  
Dad realized quickly that Bro had been holding back the first time. Now, he took his full length into him, into the moist soft heat of the back of his throat, and Dad's eyes flew wide open and he whimpered. He never expected that. He didn't feel a single bit of teeth either as Bro slowly sucked up, sealing his lips tightly around Dad and teasing him with his tongue when he got to the top.

Bro worked his way down again, until his lips rested against Dad's pelvis and all he could do was whimper and shake. Bro moved his hands as he worked, tickling circles around Dad's hips, moving over his thighs and then gently stroking his balls, another sensation Dad had never felt.  
  
"Oh...oh...uh...." Dad moaned as Bro worked him, sliding him deep in and then slowly back out, building up the heat in him until Dad lost himself and bucked up into Bro's mouth.  
  
"Mmmmm..." Bro said, and Dad's eyes rolled back in his head at the pleasure he felt from the vibration of his deep voice.  
  
"Oh, please do that again."  
  
Bro moaned again, the sound and sensation doing wild things to Dad's entire body, electric fire tingling all of his nerves, centering on the heat between his legs as he thrust himself shamelessly up into Bro's mouth. He felt the pressure rising, the heat building up to an incredible level, and he swore he'd never felt this hot in his life. Dad tried to keep his eyes open to view the deliciousness that was between his legs; Bro's shoulders flexing as he massaged Dad's balls, the muscles in his back, the curve of his ass.   
  
Bro moaned one more time and Dad was gone. The heat built up for another few seconds before it released itself in slow, deep pulses into Bro's mouth. Bro sucked his lips tightly as Dad came, Bro's breath washing over his pelvis as he panted through his nose. For a moment, the entire rest of the world vanished completely and all that was and that had ever been was Bro Strider.  
  
The heat faded, and Bro sucked every last drop off of Dad with a delicious lick of his lips.  
  
Dad collapsed back onto the bed, suddenly aware of how hard he was breathing, of how much sweat he was covered in. Of what he had just done.  
  
"Oh my goodness," he said. Bro crawled up and lay down next to him, propping his head up on his hand.  
  
"I'd ask you how it was..."  
  
"This is the best moment of my life, except for when John was born," Dad said. Bro chuckled.  
  
"Anybody else saying that and it's just pillow talk. But damn Rob, I know when a man like you says that, he fucking means it."  
  
"I mean it," Dad said, turning his gaze away from the ceiling to look Bro directly in his eyes. "Why did I wait so long?"  
  
Bro only shrugged, letting his eyes trace over Dad's naked body without shame.  
  
"Didn't have to, that's for sure," he said. "You're damn fine."  
  
"Speak for yourself," Dad said, and Bro smiled.  
  
"Well I knew that."  
  
"You need a serious attitude adjustment; you have far too much pride," Dad said. Bro gave him a smirk.  
  
"Oh good, you're still Egbert. I was worried there for a second."  
  
Dad only shook his head.  
  
"There were never any similar concerns from my end," he said. Bro snorted.  
  
"Shut up, you like it."  
  
Dad had to admit that yes, he was in fact attracted to many things about Bro, even things he disapproved of. He watched as Bro rolled over and pulled out a cigarette from his nightstand.  
  
"Oh drat, I don't have my pipe," Dad said, suddenly really wanting a good smoke. Bro reached over and spun a second cigarette in his fingers before handing it to him. He took it gratefully and sat up, leaning his back against the wall, crinkling some glossy poster that he hadn't even looked at. He knew Bro wouldn't care.

Bro lit Dad's cigarette for him first, a gesture that Dad took to be extremely thoughtful and romantic. Dad inhaled slowly; he didn't like the taste at all, but the smoke was still fairly soothing and he began to relax.  
  
"So, how'd I do for one date?" Bro asked smugly.  
  
"You don't have to rub it in."  
  
"Right. What I meant was are we doing this again."  
  
"To use a phrase that you're so very fond of, which is quite appropriate in this situation, fuck yes," Dad said, letting the smoke out of his lungs slowly. Bro smiled.  
  
"I'm going to ruin my life," Dad said. "And I don't care nearly enough. I'm not giving this up."  
  
Bro reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers against Dad's cheek. He reveled in the sensation; he absolutely adored the way Bro touched him like that.  
  
"We're not gonna ruin your life. There's no reason..."  
  
"This isn't going to be hidden forever," Dad said. "I have to think now, of how to tell her."  
  
"Holy shit, you're serious."  
  
Dad nodded slowly, shivering at bit now from his nakedness. Bro leaned down to the floor and pulled up a blanket, wrinkled but warm, and covered both of their legs with it.  
  
"I can't ever go back. I've never felt like this in my life. I feel...I feel like I've finally breathed air for the first time."  
  
"Very poetic," Bro said. "I might put that in a rap lyric."  
  
"Just make sure you give me any profit you make off of it," Dad said. Bro looked at him oddly for a moment before he slowly cracked a smile.  
  
"Robert Egbert, was that a joke?"  
  
Dad only smiled as he took another drag of the awful-tasting cigarette.   
  
"Maybe," he said. He paused.  
  
"I need to borrow a suit to wear to work tomorrow."  
  
"Right. I've got some things I never wear."  
  
Dad nodded. "My lie even covers that; I'll tell her it was Jake's," he said, sadness creeping into his voice. Though he already knew what his decision was, the future still held a great deal of pain and sadness for both him and his family. He wasn't sure in the end whether he'd want to have a long-term relationship with Bro or not; he wasn't even thinking about that. But he knew already that he could never go back to having sex with women. He tried to remember the last time he'd even made love to his wife, and he couldn't. Had they only done that...once? He wasn't even sure. He knew he couldn't do it now.  
  
"Heavy thoughts, huh," Bro said.  
  
"Yes," Dad replied.  
  
"Well, however you want to handle it," Bro said. "I'm just along for the ride."  
  
"Thank you," Dad said quietly. "For many things."  
  
"No problem. Now let's dig around in my closet and find you something to wear."


	12. Chapter 12

Dad did not sleep. Bro lay sprawled out on the bed beside him, still completely naked, his face buried in his pillow that was worn so flat he had it folded in half to get a tiny amount of height out of it. He was as sloppy in his sleeping as he was with everything else; by three in the morning there was a puddle of drool forming under his lips and he didn't seem to notice.   
  
Dad found the sight both charming and disturbing at the same time. He and Bro had absolutely nothing in common at all. If Dad had been honest with himself from the beginning; if he had pursued gay relationships in his college and younger years, then he was absolutely certain he never would have considered spending any amount of time with a person like Bro Strider. A dislikable flavor stewed in his mind as he thought that he was, as Bro had phrased it, only starved and desperate, and therefore taking the first offer that came his way, without regard to the person who it came from.  
  
He was aware that Bro knew that and was under no delusions about this situation. He was absolutely certain that he could end this affair with just a word, and Bro would not pester him about it again. He wasn't even sure that it would hurt the younger man's feelings; it was obvious from the way he stayed on his side of the bed that he spent many nights sleeping next to people.   
  
The guilt that had been in the back of his mind crept back into Dad's conscious thoughts as the dark wore on. His wife. Beautiful and charming, strong but kind, smart, quick-witted and yet gentle when necessary. She was everything he'd ever wanted in a partner; resourceful, wise, supportive and loving. She adored when he left her little love notes in her purse, and she returned his affections with little pecks on his cheeks when the children weren't looking.   
  
She was everything he'd ever hoped for in a mother for John. A model of responsibility and sensibility, her wise business practices and scientific mind were exactly the sort of example he wanted his son grow up with. Yes, she loved a good martini, but even in that she knew when it was time to call him to pick her up from a business outing. And she was always exceptionally affectionate towards him when she was tipsy, leaning her head sweetly on his shoulder, rubbing the back of his hand with her palm as he drove her home.  
  
A thick blanket of sadness slowly covered him as he thought about those nights, when they would come home late from a party, having left the kids at a sitter's house. Buzzed and giddy, dressed to the nines, they would giggle up the stairs as he held her in his arms, and he felt absolutely, completely in love. God, she was beautiful in her skin-tight gowns, gorgeous but not gaudy, classy and suave. And he'd hold her, and kiss her sweetly, and stroke her hair, and they would be very, very affectionate.  
  
Affectionate, but not sexual. And that was what he'd felt, when she would start to kiss him under his chin, or down his neck, or whisper sweet drunken things into his ear. Affection. Love. Love, but not lust. She was always the one to start something with him, and then he would  _let_  her touch him, let her move his hands the way she wanted, let her lips go where she pleased, and it made him feel happy that she was happy- and that was all it was for him. And he had thought that it was everything. He had thought it was enough.

The day Bro touched him in the living room, all of that faded away like an old picture that had been sitting in a sunny window for too long. The beautiful pastel colors that had been him making love to his wife were now nothing but a pale, ghostly white compared to the vibrant brilliancy that was sex. He did not love Bro. Not the way he loved her. But when Bro touched him, he felt  _sexual_. He felt  _passion_. He felt, in essence, the gaping hole that was present in his marriage, that he'd been unaware of until Bro had filled it in.  
  
The sun rose slowly, changing the color of the crooked blinds that covered Bro's window from dark blue to pink to orange. Dad got up at six am, two hours earlier than he really needed to, and went to use the bathroom. The state of it made him wrinkle his nose and greatly cringe at the idea of using the shower, which had four different colors of mildew growing in the corners. The sink was covered in dried toothpaste, of several different colors, and the two toothbrushes lay on the counter among the mess. The fact that one of them was Dave's gave him another unpleasant flavor in his mouth; his son's relation to Bro's made this entire situation even more irresponsible than it would have been.  
  
He turned on the water and did his best to ignore the feeling of soap scum on the bottoms of his feet. His emotions were tumbling downward very quickly. He should not be here, in this apartment, in this shower, cheating on his wife. He should be home, getting up just now to her kiss upon his cheek as she got ready to leave. The kids would be getting up for school soon. He should be making them lunch; instead, he knew she would be giving them lunch money. Which wasn't all that terrible, but it increased his guilt.  
  
He got out of the grimy shower and opened the door to the tiny linen closet. He tried to search out a clean towel; none of them were folded or stacked neatly. He pulled out a wad of them, some falling onto the floor, until he found one that he was satisfied was clean, just wrinkled. He dried off and stepped back into the bedroom. Bro was just sitting up. He stretched his arms above his head, and Dad's heart beat a little faster as he watched his delicious muscles flex in the dim light.   
  
"Good morning," Dad said.  
  
Bro nodded, but said nothing. He proceeded to crack his neck, then stand.  
  
"What time you gotta be to work?" Bro asked, his speech a bit slurred from sleepiness.  
  
"Nine," Dad replied. Bro squinted at the clock. It read seven am. He frowned.  
  
"Kinda early?" he managed.  
  
"Couldn't sleep," Dad said. Bro looked over at him then and squinted in the sunlight. He reached over to his desk and put on his shades- making him look absolutely ridiculous- and frowned.  
  
"Oh, morning guilt," Bro replied. Dad only nodded. Bro shrugged.  
  
"It wears off."  
  
He didn't want to know how or why Bro would know something like that. He was also certain that it was not the same experience for him. He didn't reply.  
  
They spent the morning in relative silence. Bro did own a decent suit, but it needed ironing and he owned no such equipment. In the end, Dad decided it was best to wear the same one he'd worn yesterday, only borrowing a red dress shirt from his illicit lover. He did not care much for the color red, but it would do.   
  
He combed his hair and Bro offered to let him borrow his toothbrush. He begrudgingly realized he didn't have a choice, but spent a good two minutes washing it under hot water in the sink before using it. He cuffed the links of his suit and set his fedora on his head, still a good forty-five minutes early. He would stop at his favorite coffee shop for breakfast, he thought, since he did not care for the stale, sugary cereals or frozen waffles that the Strider kitchen had to offer.  
  
"Despite my convictions last night, I'm uncertain now of how or if I want to pursue this," Dad said as he stood by Bro's front door, about to leave. Bro shrugged.  
  
"Whatever you want, dude. I'm not gonna sit around waiting for you to call. We'll just stay with business as usual. I come over, fuck up your house, then apologize for it," he said with a wink. Dad felt his heart both leap and his stomach retch at the same time. He nodded curtly, tried to force a smile, and realized that was pointless.

"I had a wonderful time last night, despite my feelings now," he said. "I'm still grateful for everything."  
  
"Sure," Bro replied. "Don't worry about it."   
  
Dad then turned and stepped out into the hall. He had half a mind to kiss Bro goodbye; but doing that felt like more of a betrayal than anything else he'd done yet, so he refrained. He stepped into the elevator alone, and that was the hardest part of the morning. That was when he felt the tears prick at the corners of his eyes; but when the doors opened again, he was composed and together. He put on his favorite orchestral album when he got into his car, and soothed himself with the fact that at least at work, he could pretend that everything was normal.  
____________________________________________________________  
  
The guilt on that first day was the hardest to bear. Coming home from work and lying directly to her face when she asked how it had gone tore at his heart in deep, penetrating ways.   
  
"Just fine," he replied. "Jake's kids aren't much younger than ours; they didn't need any help getting ready other than with cooking breakfast."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you stayed over there to help him. That was very kind of you; though you do look  _exhausted_ , darling. I think we'll be going to bed early," she said, stepping forward to give him a hug.  
  
He wrapped his arms more tightly around her than he'd intended, and held her as close as if he'd been away for weeks instead of one night.   
  
"Oh, I missed you so much," he said, and it surprised him at how oddly truthful that was. He hadn't realized it at all until he had her back, but he had missed her. Greatly.  
  
She chuckled softly.  
  
"It's alright, dear. You're home."   
  
Yes, he was home. And he took great solace in that fact, all afternoon as he listened to Rose's violin practice and John's video games trying to drown each other out, and as his family chattered at the dinner table, and all evening as the kids sat at the table and did their homework while he washed the dishes. He always, always appreciated his family, but now the feeling was even stronger than ever; he reminded himself how much he loved them, how little he wanted to hurt them, and entertained the idea, just for a night, that things could stay like this. Just like they had always been.   
  
He slept very peacefully that night; much more peacefully than a guilty man should have slept. Everything felt right again. Everything felt normal. He was home.  
__________________________________________________  
  
The weekend went by without incident. The weather had cooperated perfectly; it was sunny and beautiful and they spent it in the back yard, the kids running through the sprinkler while they watched and sipped lemonade under the shade of the back porch.  
  
"The path looks beautiful, Robert," she said. "The grass isn't even in yet, and I can tell how gorgeous it's going to be."  
  
"Thank you." he said, with pride.  
  
"Didn't Dave's brother help you with that?" she asked.   
  
He took care to keep his expression steady.  
  
"Yes, in fact he did."  
  
"Well, I'm glad to see the two of you finally getting along. I know he's not your idea of the ideal father, but I honestly think you were being too hard on him."  
  
"Perhaps." Dad replied, strange emotions of guilt and happiness swirling through him. He was feeling such a preposterous mix of things. He kept his face steady.  
  
"Maybe you should invite him along on your next fishing trip. I can only imagine that having someone like you as an example will help him with his parenting."  
  
"I'll think about it," Dad said, and she sighed at his apparent stubbornness, as he felt an illogical and immoral surge of excitement and hope. Another easy excuse to get away to spend time alone with Bro Strider. He realized with alarm that his excitement was manifesting physically. He pulled the newspaper off of the picnic table and opened it over his lap.  
  
"Oh look, they're talking about widening the highway with two more lanes again..." he said, and the subject was easily and squarely changed.


	13. Chapter 13

The next week wasn't too difficult. Dad hit a small snag when on Thursday, his golf buddies asked him how is "thing with his son went." Having made up the lie over a week ago, he had a difficult time remembering what on earth he'd said in order to excuse himself from golf.  
  
"Oh, just fine, You know John; always responsible."  
  
George gave him a strange look, and Dad turned his attention out to the golf course.  
  
"Oh look, they've repaired the bridge over the pond in the tenth hole," he commented instead.  
  
"'Bout time," George replied. "With the amount of money they charge..."  
  
The conversation easily changed from there, and Dad again felt at ease and relaxed. He was even whistling to himself as he drove home, until he turned the corner and saw Bro Strider's car parked in front of his house.  
  
His blood became frigid with fear, even as his heart raced with excitement. He glanced at himself in his rearview mirror and saw that his ear tips were flushed red. He took a moment to steady himself before getting out of the car. He had to think.   
  
He wasn't going to lie to his wife forever, he told himself. But he wasn't ready yet; she wasn't ready yet. It wasn't time, yet, to tell her; and doing so now would only be needlessly hurtful. It was a white lie, he justified, to spare her feelings, and their children's feelings, for now. Until it was time.  
  
He took a deep breath and walked up to his own front door, feeling oddly as if he didn't belong walking through it. He opened it up and heard the loud bustle of a house that was full of family.   
  
"Dad's home!" John shouted, and he ran up to greet him with a hug around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides.  
  
"Oof, buddy, not so rough on your old man! You don't know the strength of your own mangrit."  
  
John looked up at him and grinned, and Dad mussed his hair which he then promptly attempted to fix.   
  
"Fuck, Egbert. Usually people outgrow greeting their dad at the door like a puppy by age five."  
  
"David, what have I told you about using that word in this house?'  
  
"Sorry, Mr. Egbert."  
  
Dad tried his best to search for Bro without appearing to be searching for him. He briefly took in the surroundings of the living room, determined he wasn't there, and then forced himself to walk into the kitchen to talk to his wife. He was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to find that Bro was not in the kitchen with her, as she snipped angrily at someone on her cell phone.  
  
He leaned down, and she didn't miss a beat of her conversation as she tilted her cheek up towards him. He kissed it gently, and she squeezed his hand before going back to her day-planner and sipping her glass of white wine.   
  
Two pizza boxes lay open on the table, four slices left between them. Thursday nights were always pizza night; Dad came home too late from golf to cook, and Mrs. Egbert, though she tried, was not as good at it as he was. The kids loved the pizza and so he tolerated it, though at the moment, eating dinner was the last thing on his mind.  
  
Dad then decided the best course of action would be to do his usual routine. He took off his coat and put it on its hook by the kitchen door, and rested his fedora on top of it. He then turned to go upstairs to wash up and change out of his work clothes.  
  
It wasn't until after he'd shut his bedroom door softly that Bro appeared out of the corner.  
  
"Finally, been waiting for you for half an hour," he said.   
  
A chill iced through Dad's body, followed by a sensation of tingling heat that spread from his spine up to his head and down to his groin.  
  
His brain told him to turn around and scold Bro, just like the child he was behaving like; to grill him about why he was in his bedroom, to yell about what was wrong with him; what if his wife came upstairs, or worse, one of the kids?  
  
But what he did in reality was put his hands on the sides of Bro's face and pull him close, eagerly meeting their lips together and moan softly as Bro wrapped his arms around his back.  
  
"Uhhh..." Dad said as Bro squeeze their bodies close, and without his brain's consent, he was letting Bro pull him towards his bed, he was letting Bro pull Dad on top of him, he was groaning as he pressed their chests together and ground his hips down shamelessly into Bro's crotch.

"Fuck, Egbert, you're as hard as COD zombie mode," Bro said. Dad didn't know what that was. He didn't care. He ground his hips eagerly into Bro's groin again. He pulled back from the kiss long enough to look into his face, his breath coming hard and fast.  
  
"What are you doing in my room?" he managed, even as he moved to lower his lips to Bro's neck and started kissing under his chin.  
  
Bro laughed softly. "I don't see you complaining."  
  
"I didn't say I was upset; but I know I'm supposed to be, so please answer the question."  
  
Bro's fingers wandered over Dad's back, stroking along his spine until they came to rest on his ass cheek, which he grabbed.  
  
"Came to seduce you; though you've saved me a damn lot of work."  
  
Dad raised his head and stared down at the man who was simultaneously saving his soul and destroying his life.  
  
"You..."  
  
He heard footsteps on the stairs, and it was unmistakable that they did not belong to a child. Dad froze in sheer terror and flew to his feet. In a panic, he searched the room for answers, solutions, as Bro re-adjusted his shades.  
  
Dad turned to him, solution evident in his mind.  
  
"Get in the bathroom," Dad said, very softly so she wouldn't hear.  
  
Bro raised an eyebrow, but he complied, and Dad hurried in behind him, shut the door, and quickly turned on the shower.  
  
He frantically tore off his clothes, draping them over the edge of the tub as usual. Bro stared at him with crossed arms and ran his tongue over his lips as he traced his eyes over his body.   
  
"Not now," Dad whispered. "Open the linen closet door and hide behind it, hurry!"  
  
Bro shrugged and then fluidly stepped over to the closet, opening the door and hiding behind it. Dad stepped into the shower, forcing himself not to yelp as the water was too cold, and barley had himself wet when she walked in.  
  
"Darling, the children are begging me to take them out for ice cream, did you want us to wait for you?" she asked, not looking at him but walking to the mirror to fix a few strands of her hair and inspect her make-up.  
  
Dad took a moment to take a deep breath, calming himself enough to sound normal when he spoke.  
  
"No, that's alright. I don't feel like going out. You kids have fun."  
  
She turned from the mirror, Dad's heart racing in panic as her eyes passed over the open linen closet door, and then moved uninterrupted to rest on him, as she looked at him through the distorted shower glass.  
  
"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, standing just two feet away from him, though they were separated by the walls of the shower. "You've been acting...quiet, lately."  
  
"Have I?"  
  
"Yes, you have. You're not getting sick, are you, and pretending that you feel fine so I don't worry?"  
  
Guilt clawed up from the pit of his stomach and up into his throat. Here he was, acting as if she was an enemy he needed to hide from, and all she was doing was worrying about him and loving him.  
  
"No, I'm just...tired," he said.  
  
"Alright. If you say everything's fine, then everything's fine," she said, and turned to leave.  
  
 _Don't trust me like this I'm not who we thought I was stop trusting me I'm a liar you deserve so much better..._  
  
She paused at the doorway.  
  
"Do you want us to bring you back something? Two scoops, pecan and strawberry with caramel sauce?"  
  
Dad had to suppress the sob that wracked up through his throat, as she was the only person besides John who ever remembered his favorite kind of ice cream sundae.   
  
"Yes, that would be lovely," he forced, surprised at how normal his voice sounded.  
  
"Good, it's set, then. Oh, and I don't know where Dave's brother ran off to; but his car is still out front so he'll probably be back shortly, just tell him where we went?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Wonderful. See you in a bit."  
  
She shut the door softly behind her, and Dad waited a good thirty seconds more before he let the sobs rise up his throat and hiccup unsteadily from between his lips, even as the water washed the tears from his face away.

A shadow appeared in his vision, blocking the light from the ceiling, and he turned to look at Bro through the glass. It suddenly annoyed him and he shoved the door open, not caring about the drops of water that escaped onto the floor.  
  
His arms were crossed, his face was unreadable, but he was silent, something Dad took to be respectful. Dad rose and stood up straight, washed his face in the water and pulled himself together.  
  
"I'm a horrible husband."   
  
"You are an amazing man," Bro said softly. "I don't know how you fucking do it, all this love and caring for everyone."  
  
Dad only shook his head, and, not knowing what else to do, squirted some shampoo into his hand to actually begin showering. He had his eyes closed as he rinsed under the water, but he heard the pattern of the falling water change and felt the heat of the small space increase.   
  
His eyes flew open to see a naked Bro Strider standing in front of him, clothes tossed haphazardly on the bathroom floor, hat, gloves and shades set carefully on the edge of the tub.  
  
Bro shrugged. "I couldn’t possibly pass up this opportunity," he said, shutting the shower door with a little too much noise.  
  
Dad stared at his naked form for only a few seconds before he pulled him into his arms. He needed company, he needed solace, and he recognized that it wasn't Bro's fault for his misery. It was his own, for living in denial for so long, for lying to himself and everyone he loved for his entire life. Bro making him realize the truth now wasn't the source or cause of his pain, and he was also in love with the jerk, and so he failed to be angry and eagerly kissed him.  
  
"Fuck, Egbert, you change moods like I change tracks when I'm driving, are you sure you're not losing your shit?"  
  
"I feel absolutely crushed by guilt and misery, but that doesn't take away from how attracted I am to you," Dad said. "Come on, we only have about an hour. Touch me."  
  
Bro took his invitation without hesitation. He traced his palms down Dad's bare sides, rested them on his hips, and pushed him towards the wall. Dad complied, letting Bro guide him to where the water wasn't falling, and he watched as Bro grabbed a bottle of bodywash.  
  
Dad's eyes could not leave Bro's hands as he watched him lather them up, and when he felt them caressing his neck he rested the back of his head against the tiles and moaned softly. Bro's hands massaged his skin with a steady, strong rhythm, his fingers sure of themselves and absolutely unabashed as they traced over his skin. The soap made the sensation smooth and graceful, and Dad already felt the heat rushing to his cheeks as his heart rate increased.  
  
Bro slid his hands around Dad's shoulders and up into his armpits. Dad whimpered and blushed; that was a private place that no one had ever really touched before.   
  
"Arms up, Egbert," Bro purred, and Dad did as he was commanded, and could do nothing but receive the sensual strokes that were Bro's palms over his skin.  
  
He moved his hands over Dad's left arm, then, stroking it, pulling it, surrounding him with his fingers as he slid down to his elbow, over his forearm, and down to his wrist. He took his hand in both of his, and Dad moaned softly as he wallowed in the sensation of having his hand being held by Bro.   
  
Bro teased and cleaned every one of his fingers individually, motions that should not have felt as sexual as they did. Heat tingled up his arm and into his shoulder, and Dad felt his erection growing as Bro touched him.  
  
Bro washed his other arm in the same manner and then squirted more soap onto his palms. He slid them over Dad's collarbone and down to his chest, where his fingers ghosted gracefully over his nipples.  
  
"Yyyaahhh..." Dad said, his voice small and helpless as delightful sensations danced over his skin and piled into the growing heat between his legs. Bro let his hands run over his stomach as he pushed his lips against his, crushing the back of his head to the tiles as his hands traced over his hips and down to his thighs.

Dad could do nothing but stand helplessly as Bro brought both of his hands together to cup his testicles. He massaged them, the soap making his movements slick and effortless. When he brought them up to surround his erection in his palms Dad could only whimper softly into Bro's lips; and Bro satisfied him with a deep groan in return.  
  
Heat pulsed in his dick as Bro slid both of his hands slowly over it, the soap making them glide fluidly as he explored every surface. He teased the tip with his thumbs and then squeezed gently behind the head, making Dad whimper and squirm. Bro then made a circle with his index finger and thumb, a circle that was too small, and rested it on his tip, which was now purple and glistening in the bathroom light. He pushed down, forcing Dad's tip through the hole he made, stretching his skin tightly and making Dad shudder and cry out.  
  
"Oh...!" Dad said as Bro did it again, repeatedly, as Dad's arms flew to wrap around Bro's back to keep himself from falling as his knees grew weak.  
  
Bro only laughed softly, moving his kisses back to Dad's neck as he reached for the bottle and squirted more soap onto his palms. He slid his hands back down to Dad's balls, gliding the sides of his hands around them, pushing them into crevices that made Dad's cheeks flame with embarrassment and want.   
  
Bro's hands shifted farther back with each stroke, until his fingers were gliding up behind Dad's balls, into a new crevice that was far more private than all the others. His motions were so smooth and gradual that Dad found himself letting him push that limit; he allowed Bro to slide his fingers farther up, that was until they brushed over the very sensitive flesh of his rectum, and Dad yelped and tried to pull back.  
  
"That's a little too personal, now!" Dad cried, but the wall kept him from going anywhere and Bro only pushed his body up against him. Their erections touched, and Bro slid his left hand out from between Dad's legs to hold them together and pull his fingers down both of their lengths. Dad groaned heavily, his forehead falling forward onto Bro's shoulder, his arms that were wrapped around his back losing their grip as his knees turned to jelly.  
  
Bro inched the hand that was between Dad's legs up again, his fingers gently rubbing where they were not invited.  
  
"This is quite humiliating..." Dad panted, his cheeks flaming hot, his concentration on what was happening to him divided between the immense pleasure in his dick and the discomfort of Bro invading his very personal space.  
  
"Just give it a chance; you'll like it," Bro whispered in his ear, his hand pulling down on their erections, making Dad groan. He teased his finger over Dad's rectum, the soap making it glide smoothly and gracefully, even as Bro had to fight to reach it because of Dad's tenseness.  
  
"Relax, come on. This will feel really good, I swear."  
  
"I don't think..."  
  
Bro was relentless in his massaging, his fingers stroking Dad's sensitive flesh in a predictable, steady strokes. That, combined with the pleasure he felt from their erections being rubbed together, started to do him in. Bro's fingertips started to send little waves of tingling pleasure racing through Dad's nerves, and before he realized that he was giving in, he moaned softly and let his head fall forward, his forehead resting on Bro's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, that's it. Relax, come on, let me in."  
  
" _In?_ " Dad's voice was such a high pitch that it cracked as if he was a teenager.  
  
"Yeah,  _in_ , Egbert. Trust me, you'll like it. I'm a pro."  
  
Dad opened his mouth to protest, but only a small whimper came out as Bro traced his thumb over the tip of his penis, and his index finger over the flesh of his sphincter, which was becoming very sensitive from all the attention it was receiving. He whimpered softly and Bro lowered his lips to gently kiss his neck, and it all felt so good, it all felt far too good, and he lost his sense.  
  
"Alright. Show me," he said softly, and he saw Bro's lips upturn in a small, confident smile from the corner of his eye.

Bro slid both of his hands away and took a small step back, pouring more soap into his palms.  
  
"Turn around." he said, his voice confident and smooth. Dad flushed heavily, his cheeks burning hot as he did as asked and faced the tiled wall.  
  
Bro's hands massaged his ass cheeks now, in warm, firm strokes, slowly moving towards the place where they joined. He slid one around Dad's hip and wrapped his fingers around his erection, which was completely covered in soap. He pulled and Dad whimpered softly, closing his eyes in pleasure.  
  
Bro's fingers reached his anus again and stopped, his index finger resting at the center, and every muscle in Dad's body tensed.  
  
"Are you sure this is safe?" he asked. Bro leaned in, his chest pressing against Dad's back, his lips brushing against his ear. The closeness both comforted him and made his pulse race faster.  
  
"Sure. I do this all the time."  
  
Dad swallowed, his nerves flying in every direction, and clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering like one of John's prank wind-up toys.  
  
"Nobody's ever...gotten...hurt?"  
  
"Not from me. I know what I'm doing, and I fucking care about you, Egbert."  
  
Maybe it was just from all the wild emotions and sensations raging through him, but Dad's heart leapt as it totally believed that sentence at face value. All his years, all of his maturity, all of his carefully constructed responsibility was melting away before his eyes, and he didn't even care.  
  
"Really?" he asked, sounding like a teenager again, feeling like one, nervous and afraid and excited like one.  
  
Bro let his lips brush against his ear when he spoke.  
  
"Yes, really. I don't hide behind closet doors like Looney Toon bandits trying to pull a fast one for just anybody."  
  
Bro stroked him again, this time adding more pressure, until he slowed and the round tip of his index finger pressed inside, invading him, making him squirm with discomfort.  
  
"Are you sure this is sanitary!?" he cried.  
  
"I'm covered in soap. Can't possibly get any cleaner."  
  
"This won't..."  
  
"Rob, shut up. Trust me."  
  
Words failed him anyway as he felt Bro invade him, the sensation strange as things went in the opposite direction from what he was used to. He felt another person, something alive inside of him and whimpered out of weirdness, out of strangeness and fear. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the warmth of Bro's body, comforting and strong as it pressed into him, and tried to just ignore the finger pushing around the walls inside him.  
  
"Goodness!" he cried, as Bro rubbed some spot that was very sensitive.  
  
"Hey there," Bro said softly, his voice as seductive as honey as he stroked that spot again, slow but firm, and part of Dad's brain realized it was his prostate but the rest of him didn't care about words.  
  
His nerves sang wildly as Bro slid his finger in and out, just a little, concentrating on putting pressure on that most sensitive area, and Dad forgot all about the things that had made him nervous ten seconds ago. It felt  _good_.  
  
When Bro moved the hand he had wrapped around his dick again, Dad groaned helplessly, his nose pressing into the tiled wall as he hardly cared about things like his face. The slow, burning smolder that was everywhere below his waist held all of his attention, and he wanted nothing else but for this to last forever. The rhythm of Bro stroking him, both inside and out, matched perfectly, everything in synchronous harmony so that when Dad bucked backward to get more of it, he got more; and when he thrust forward for more, he got more.   
  
"Ohh...ohhhhhhh..." was all he could say, and Bro's only reply was to take the lobe of his ear between his lips and suck on it, spreading the fire that was in his body all the way up his neck.

Dad thrust harder and faster into Bro's hand and back onto his finger, the sensations only increasing as Bro squeezed him tighter and stroked him harder. Dad's mind was nowhere to be found; his entire world was nothing but Bro's hands, Bro's body, and his entire being was nothing but the things he was making him feel. He groaned loudly, pushing his palms against the wall for more leverage as he shamelessly shoved himself back into the heat that was behind him and in front of him. Bro picked up the pace as he pumped his dick and he was done for.  
  
Dad keened at a volume that echoed in the shower as he came, his face pointing up to the ceiling as the back of his head rested on Bro's shoulder, his cum squirting onto the tiled wall. His knees turned to jelly and he nearly collapsed; Bro pulled his hands away from where they were and wrapped his arms around his waist instead, to hold him up.  
  
"Whoa, steady," he said, and Dad regained his composure enough to stand. He leaned his hands and forehead on the wall for support as he shook, shivering despite the hot water filling the small area with steam all around him.  
  
"So what..." Bro began, but Dad cut him off with a fervent kiss, shoving his lips hard up against him, pushing the younger man's back into the wall. Dad reached down and took Bro's erection into his hand, stroking him earnestly, out of gratefulness, out of pleasure, out of just plain feeling in love. He had never felt like this; he had never made love before, he had never had sex before, and all he wanted was to make his partner feel the amazing things he'd just felt.  
  
Bro groaned into his mouth and started to buck into his hand. Dad might have been new at gay sex, but he at least knew how to jerk off a dick. He matched Bro's timing, pulling up and pushing down with strong firmness, starting off slowly and increasing his speed as Bro increased his thrusts. He took his other arm and wrapped it around his back, holding him close, gazing at his eyes until they looked at him, brilliant red, gorgeous and perfect, desperate and vulnerable and needy in a way that Dad knew few people had ever seen them.  
  
Bro closed them and groaned, and Dad leaned in to kiss him as he felt his lover's warm cum pulse onto his abdomen and hand. He kept his pace steady and measured until Bro closed his eyes and his hips stilled. He leaned his head against the wall, panting. Dad pulled his lips away.  
  
"That's the best thank you that I have to offer, for now," he replied. 

Bro opened his eyes and gazed at him with an expression that, a month ago, Dad would have interpreted as deadpan. But he had seen Bro Strider now; he  _knew_  him now, and so he recognized the barely discernible facial movements as being an expression that wasn't too far off from how Dad felt; drowning in adoration and satisfaction.  
  
"I don't understand you, Egbert; but I don't really fucking care. Damn."  
  
Dad smiled and gave Bro a wink, before he stepped into the streaming water to begin to wash the soap off of him. Half an hour ago he would have been very self-conscious about cleaning himself in places that no one had ever seen; but now he felt no such shyness at all as he shamelessly washed away every drop of soap off of him and out of him.  
  
After Bro had rinsed as well, they both stepped out and dried off using the same towel, so as not to create suspicion. Dad then proceeded to comb his hair in the mirror while Bro used the hair dryer next to him, and Dad felt a beat in his heart at the reflection of the two of them fixing themselves up together, like that. It was different from doing it next to his wife; it felt special, it felt surreal.   
  
But then Bro finished what he was doing, tossed the dryer back into its drawer, and left to put his clothes on without saying a word, and the magic was broken. No; Bro would never be anything like family, not the way his wife was, not the way his kids were. That was just left over pleasant emotions from his experience, Dad told himself, and it left him feeling a little sour that he'd even dared dream of such a thing.  
  
His wife was for affection, and sweet evenings, and family memories and raising their children together. Bro was for sex. Yes; that was all this was, and all it would ever be, and that was why it would be okay. Yes, somehow, this would all be okay.  
  
By the time she came home with the kids, Bro was sitting on the couch, taking full advantage of their big-screen TV while Dad was sitting at the table paying the bills.  
  
She walked into the kitchen and he gave her a bright smile, and swept her up into his arms before giving her a peck on the cheek.  
  
"Did you have a good time doing chores, dear?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, I had a wonderful time. How was ice cream?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, you know. The usual," She held out a paper bag, and he smiled as he opened it and took out his favorite sundae. He kissed her with deep, affectionate love on her forehead.  
  
"Thank you," he said, and she smiled, and he thought that perhaps this situation could possibly work after all. 


	14. Chapter 14

Dad checked all of his gear and equipment for a third time, re-checked that his suitcase was zippered tightly, and shut the trunk firmly without slamming it. He didn’t allow himself to think about the immediate future whatsoever, because doing that would make keeping the smile off of his face impossible. It was all he could do to keep his usual calm demeanor. Though his wife had commented that it was nice to see him excited about something, he was fairly certain that it was a normal, about-to-go-on-my-annual-fishing-trip excitement, displayed at the same level that it had been last year.  
  
She’d even said she was proud of him when he told her he’d invited Bro along. She was glad they were bonding now, instead of hating each other. She said Bro ruining the walk and then helping Dad fix it had been a good thing after all.   
  
He couldn’t possibly have agreed more.  
  
He hugged John tightly goodbye, and John tried to hug him back but he was eager to run back upstairs to play video games with Dave. They had decided that the best course of action was to simply tell the truth about where they were going, and it felt good not to hide those facts. It also made it possible for Bro to leave Dave at the Egbert house for the week. The only lie was that there would be the usual crowd going as well. She didn’t know they would be alone.  
  
He kissed her goodbye, and he meant it. It was a real kiss. There was real love, and he felt hers in return. He did not love her less. He held her a bit longer than usual, but that was to be expected for a week-long absence.  
  
“Bring us home some nice, fresh trout,” she said. “I know John doesn’t care for it, but Rose and I love your fish.”  
  
He smiled, and his heart felt warm. He knew he should have been feeling guilty, but he wasn’t. Everything was as it should be. Everything felt right.

As he drove from the house, he hummed to the piano concerto that he had playing on his homemade CD. The sun shone brightly on the road as he headed into the city, and there was a bounce in his step as he walked into the familiar apartment building.  
  
From the way he’d packed, it was clear that Bro had never gone fishing before. Dad raised one eyebrow at the giant duffel bag full of clothes and two backpacks, one full of personal care items, the other full of electronics.  
  
“You do realize we’ll be staying in a cabin deep in a forest,” Dad asked.  
  
“You said it had running water and electricity.”  
  
“Yes, it has basic amenities. But it’s well water, from the ground, and the power comes from solar power, so it’s rather weak…”  
  
“Awesome. Just need it to charge up a few things. It’ll be cool.”  
  
Dad sighed and then started to inspect his clothes.  
  
“These are all fairly nice…”  
  
“Thank you. I try to look my best,” Bro said, standing off to the side with his arms crossed while Dad rifled through his personal things.  
  
“Yes, but…we’ll be walking through mud and creek beds and bristles and briars…”  
  
Bro raised an eyebrow. “ ‘We’? I was just gonna stay in the cabin for the fishing part.”  
  
Dad tried his hardest not to show it, but he was aware that his expression revealed his disappointment when he saw Bro’s small grin fade. He uncrossed his arms and put a hand behind his head uncomfortably.  
  
“Well, I mean, I just…don’t know what I’m doing with this sort of thing, and I didn’t want to mess it up for you. You know. Scare away the fish, attract unwanted mermaids…”  
  
Dad sighed and let his disappointment fade. He shouldn’t have kidded himself. He knew what kind of person Bro was, and he knew the reason Bro was coming along, and he knew it wasn’t for fishing. The fishing part, he reminded himself, was a bonus. A side activity to their real purpose.  
  
“It’s fine. You’re right. You’re being wise for bringing along your own entertainment. A week is a long time, after all.”  
  
Bro then stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Dad’s waist, leaning forward so his lips brushed against Dad’s ear.  
  
“Trust me, Egbert. This week is gonna fly.”  
  
Dad’s ear flamed red and he leaned back against Bro’s chest, sighing as his muscular arms pulled him close. His breath came faster and he felt his heart start to race. He suddenly cared much less about fishing.  
  
“Yes. Let’s pack up, then,” he said, his voice weaker than he’d expected. Bro pressed his lips softly against his neck, and Dad groaned quietly as Bro slowly pulled away.

The four-hour road trip was quiet, but not awkward. Early on they worked out an agreement with the music: first one of Dad’s songs, then two of Bro’s, since they were shorter. The deep bass and thrumming of the club dance music wasn’t really to Dad’s liking, but this was the first time he’d truly listened to any of it, and he had to admit he could see the appeal. It wasn’t just the noise he’d once supposed, but there was true musical quality and composition to it, and he could definitely see how someone else could appreciate it.  
  
When they first turned up the mountain road, Dad caught glimpses of Bro trying to get a look without appearing as if he cared. Large faces of blasted rock lined the road on one side, and hundreds of tall, old trees lined the other, and Dad knew for certain that Bro had never seen anything like it before in his life. He was a city boy to the core, and it was nice to see his appreciation of something new, even if he was trying to hide it.  
  
Dad parked next to the small log cabin and got out, stretching his sore back and aching shoulders. He inhaled deeply the scent of the clean air and trees, listening to the crunch of dead pine needles and leaves beneath his sneakers.   
  
“You look good in jeans, Egbert,” Bro said as he got out, stretching himself.   
  
“All this to look at and take in, and your attention is drawn to my jeans?”  
  
Bro made no attempt to hide that he was now tracing his eyes over Dad’s legs, lingering on his hips and ass.   
  
“Did you want it to be drawn somewhere else?”  
  
Dad’s cheeks flushed, and he fumbled a bit as he tried to get the trunk open to begin unpacking.  
  
Bro made several comments about the little cabin, making his disdain for it quite clear. Dad sighed inwardly, a bit of sadness creeping in as he thought of other memories that he had in this place. Many years of fishing trip antics were had here, with pals who appreciated the sentimentality of it and the rustic atmosphere. He’d never brought his wife here- if he had, he would have chosen another location to bring Bro- but he knew she’d have appreciated it, just for the simple fact that he loved it so much. It was his dream also to bring John here soon, perhaps next year, even, and teach him all the things he’d learned over the years from friends and their fathers.  
  
By the time they finished unloading the car, it was late in the afternoon. Dad changed into his fishing gear- old cargo shorts that were worn in many places, and a hunter green shirt with a picture of a splashing trout on the front. He changed his business fedora for a floppy canvas hat and began to assemble his equipment.  
  
“I want to go out and test the waters, see what’s biting.” he said. Bro was sitting on the small couch, one leg bent so his ankle rested on his knee, playing a hand-held video game.  
  
“Sure thing. Have fun,” he said, not looking up from the screen. Dad tried to fight the sadness as he nodded and walked out. This was what he had expected. He had no reason to feel sad.  
  
Except that he did, he thought, as he picked his way along the familiar trail, his boots finding their sure way across the earth. Bro, though he was growing on him, was not Dad’s idea of an ideal partner. He’d always dreamed of someone who he could share his interests with, someone who had similar dreams as he did, someone who’s life goals were the same as his. He sighed heavily when he thought about how he already had that, with his wife, who was just as loving and caring and responsible as he was. They weren’t exactly the same, no; she liked cocktail parties, he liked the outdoors, but he knew they were equal on the more important things in life, such as raising their children, providing a home for them, having steady careers.  
  
He paused by the side of the creek and sat down on one of his favorite rocks. He let the sound of the water soothe him as he concentrated on baiting his hook for a moment, and he felt himself relax as he worked. He was happy to be here, even alone. In fact it was very peaceful, and he was glad to not have his drunk, rowdy buddies splashing in the water below him this time.

He let his mind wander as he waited for a bite. She would have come fishing if he’d asked her to, and he knew it. She might not have enjoyed it the same way he did, but she would have packed up a nice picnic for them to share, and smiled and laughed and taken pictures of him when he made his first catch.  
  
But when Dad thought about who was waiting for him when he returned now, his ears grew prickly and his heart beat faster. No, he did not regret bringing Bro. No, his wife did not make him feel this way, nor had any woman. If she’d come with him, they would have made dinner, watched a movie or read books side-by-side, and gone to sleep. Which was very romantic and sweet. And Dad liked romantic and sweet.  
  
But that was not always what he wanted. And it was not what he wanted now. He thought about the last time he’d touched Bro, about having sex in the shower, about Bro’s body, Bro’s lips, his hands, his fingers…  
  
He was so lost in his concentration that he almost missed the tug on the line. Bringing his thoughts back to reality he started to reel in, carefully, giving in just the right amount of fight as he felt the trout yank on the hook.   
  
“Easy there, that does it,” he said softly, reeling the fish in until it was splashing in the shallows at his feet. He rushed forward with the net and watched satisfactorily as it flopped futilely. He brought it back to the rock and tossed it into the water-filled bucket, whistling to himself as he re-baited the hook.   
  
He let his mind wander back to the man waiting for him in the cabin, and blushed at his own phrasing of that thought. He had a man waiting for him. A sexy man at that. One who had taken an entire week out of his life to come here to be with him. Dad frowned for a moment as he thought about that. He’d never considered that his relationship with Bro had been anything other than completely casual before. He’d always assumed that Bro was spending time with other lovers as well, especially because Dad could afford to see him so infrequently. Yet here he was, voluntarily coming to a place he didn’t really want to go, away from everything he was comfortable with, to spend an entire week with only…him.  
  
The line interrupted his thoughts again, and after that the fish really began to bite. Dad’s attention was fully on fishing now as he caught three, then four, then six. He stopped at that, picked out the choicest two of the lot, and tossed the rest back. He glanced down into the bucket and smiled at the fish resting quietly in it.  
  
Dinner tonight was going to be delicious. 


	15. Chapter 15

Dad arrived back at the cabin just as the sun was starting to turn the sky orange. He immediately went to the picnic table in the back and whistled as he opened up his fish preparation kit, which he had the foresight to place outside earlier. He opened up a nice, clean plastic cloth and set it over the table, washed his hands from the outdoor water pump, and began to scale and clean the fish.  
  
Bro finally heard him when he was nearly done, probably because his ears were buried in headphones. Or earbuds, like kids these days used. Bro was only five years younger than he was, but often that gap felt much larger because of their different lifestyles.   
  
Dad heard the screen door creak open and then slam shut, and had to repress the reflex to scold about not slamming the door. He smiled to himself as he thought about that. Bro certainly acted like a child in many ways; but he was responsible in places that it truly counted. Taking on the responsibility of raising his son so young was very admirable. And, Dad had to admit, the way Bro was handling their affair, the way he respected Dad and his need for secrecy and their family was…well. Honorable.  
  
“That looks disgusting,” Bro replied, putting one foot up on the bench of the table and lighting a cigarette.  
  
Dad smiled.  
  
“Just you wait until you taste it.”  
  
Bro took a drag from his cigarette, and Dad caught him looking up at the tops of the trees. They were old trees, most of them at least a hundred, probably more, and Dad guessed that Bro had never seen trees so tall.   
  
“So what do you think of all this nature?” he asked, though from his point of view, Bro hadn’t really seen much nature at all.  
  
Bro shrugged.  
  
“It’s weird. Trees shouldn’t be taller than buildings.”   
  
Dad smiled. That was alright. He didn’t need to share interests and hobbies with Bro, the way he did with a lifetime partner. They were just lovers.   
  
Dad felt his cheeks flush.  
  
“Would you fire up the grill?” he asked. “My hands are covered in fish.”  
  
Bro nodded once, and flicked his cigarette butt out into the grass.  
  
“You can’t do that. You’ll burn the forest down.” Dad said.  
  
Bro opened his mouth, about to say a smart remark, but Dad gave him a stern look, as if Bro  _were_  a child just then. Bro nodded once, turned around and started squinting in the grass looking for the butt. He bent down and picked it up, and Dad felt a rush of feeling in love. He knew Bro didn’t really give a fuck about burning forests down, because he didn’t really understand what that meant. He did it to make Dad happy.   
  
He started to think that he was more to Bro than just a guy he slept with. He shoved the thought away.   
  
By the time Dad finished cleaning the fish, Bro had the grill nice and hot, and before long dinner was under way. Dad gave Bro some simple instructions on how to boil potatoes to go with the fish and he followed them well enough. It was dark when dinner was ready, and they ate out on the picnic table by the light of the lamp next to the back door.  
  
“Egbert, you’ve outdone yourself. This is fucking delicious.”  
  
“Thank you, Dirk. I’m glad you appreciate all the hard work that went into this.”  
  
Bro nodded, unable to reply because his mouth was full of food. They didn’t say much during dinner, but hardly much needed to be said. Dad found himself listening to the peacefulness as night fell around them and the crickets began to chirp. Fireflies started to add little flashes of light to the air and Dad felt at home.   
  
Dad stood up and stretched.  
  
“Alright, I think I’m gonna head in and shower up,” he said.  
  
“Finally,” Bro replied, and Dad only laughed. He stepped into the cabin and removed his boots at the door, not bothering to clean the mud off like he usually did. He had to admit, he was a little impatient himself, now that it was almost time.

Dad took a much longer time showering than he normally would. The cabin only had so much hot water, and it was possible to make it run out rather easily. So he was always careful not to be wasteful. But this was a special occasion. Blushing even from the thought of what had happened last time, and not sure what to expect, Dad cleaned himself in places he’d never would have considered needed cleaning before. It was a strange experience feeling his own finger inside of himself; strange, but not bad, and he knew he had Bro to thank for introducing him to these new things. These really pleasurable new things.  
  
Dad came out and dried off, then wondered if he should shave his face. That was a thing he normally did in the morning. He decided not to change his routine.  
  
He came out wrapped only in a towel and headed for the bedroom to grab a change of clothes. Bro was lounging on the bed, back leaning against the paneled wall, playing a handheld video game.  
  
He shut it off and put it down the moment Dad stepped into the room. Bro slowly raised his fingers to his sunglasses and lifted them off, setting them on the bedside table. Dad blushed as he watched those reddish-orange eyes trace intently over his body, lingering on his exposed chest. He softly shut the door behind him without turning around.  
  
“I was going to get dressed…”  
  
“That would be kinda pointless,” Bro said, rising to his feet and walking around the bed. He stood behind Dad and snaked his hands around his waist, pulling their bodies close together. Dad felt the soft fabric of Bro’s thin shirt and his warmth beneath it, and sighed into his arms. They didn’t have to rush, this time. There was no hurry. They had all night.  
  
Bro started to rub his hands over Dad’s stomach, his palms bare, his gloves long gone. Dad moaned softly as his ears turned red and his skin started to tingle.   
  
“You’re damn sexy, Egbert,” Bro said into his ear. “And it’s been way too long since I saw you naked.”  
  
Dad’s ear flamed hot as he felt Bro’s lips brush against it. He then felt those lips kiss just under his lobe, and then again slightly under that. He felt nothing else as Bro’s lips kissed in a line down his neck, making his skin tingle and his pulse race.  
  
Bro tickled Dad with all ten of his fingertips, dragging them across his stomach and up his sides, making him shudder. He lifted them higher and stroked them across Dad’s nipples, making sensation dance over his chest.   
  
“Ohhh…my….” was all Dad managed to say, before Bro nuzzled his lips deeper into the soft flesh of Dad’s neck. Dad let his head fall back against Bro’s shoulder, and when he began to suck on Dad’s skin, he didn’t stop him. He knew Bro was going to leave a mark; but they had a whole week to let it fade, and he found himself really, really liking it.  
  
His nipples were hard now and Bro pinched them between his fingers, making Dad keen and squirm a little. Bro laughed softly, his breath washing over Dad’s chest and down his back. Bro moved his lips in slow, gentle circles in the crook of Dad’s neck where it met his shoulder. His dick had grown fully hard without his even noticing, but it drew his attention when Bro’s hands wandered down to the top of the towel and unwrapped it, exposing him to the cool air.  
  
Before Dad could reply Bro’s hand was there, stroking his hard penis. Dad’s knees grew weak and he shuddered helplessly. Bro rocked his hips forward, pushing his own confined erection against Dad’s ass, and Dad leaned back into him without even thinking much about the full implications of the motion.

“I…can hardly stand any longer…” Dad managed to breathe, and then Bro’s arms were guiding him to the bed, pushing his chest into the blankets as he rested his knees on the floor. Bro paused for a moment and Dad saw his white shirt fall crumpled to the floor beside them. He crushed Dad with the weight of his body, his bare chest pressing into Dad’s naked back. He felt Bro grind his clothed erection against his ass again, and he felt him shudder. Lying face down on the bed with Bro covering him left Dad with an entirely new and very pleasant feeling of helplessness. Being in a situation where someone else had more experience and knowledge than he did was unusual for him, and he was happily welcoming it.   
  
Bro started to drag his tongue over the back of Dad’s neck in long, wet licks. Dad shook as he teased down his spine with his tongue and lips, his palms stroking his sides, making his skin tingle with sensation. His heart was already racing, but somehow it managed to beat faster when he felt Bro’s lips ghost over his ass and then stop to plant slow, wet kisses there.   
  
“Ghaaaaa…” was all Dad could say. He felt Bro squeeze his ass cheeks with his hands, and he tried to think about it, but he only felt pleasure instead. Bro’s tongue was getting closer to the middle and Dad’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears. Bro was moving so fast; he hadn’t expected this, and it was incredible.  
  
He felt Bro part his ass with his palms and then felt his tongue where he was certain tongues should not go. Dad yelped and tensed, his hands bunching the blankets where he grasped them. It was hot and wet and Dad whimpered loudly into the bed as he shook. Bro dragged the flat part of his tongue over his anus and he was letting him, and he was far too enjoyable. Every long, slow lick brought him deeper into the puddle of sensation he was drowning in, so that when Bro pursed his lips and sucked Dad’s sphincter, Dad nearly screamed.  
  
“Holy mackerel!” he cried, and he felt Bro’s lips smile behind him for a moment before they went back to their very welcome activity. Dad was now intensely sensitive, his body prickling with fire, and every drag of Bro’s tongue made him shudder and moan.   
  
He felt hard pressure, and then the hot wetness was sliding inside of him. Some part of Dad’s mind wondered if this was a good idea, but the rest of him was too busy feeling to think. He had no idea people could do such things; and if you’d asked him before this moment what he’d thought of it, he wouldn’t have approved. But now that he felt it, it was incredible, and he was unbelievably grateful to Bro for introducing him to these entirely new experiences.  
  
Bro wasn’t bashful whatsoever as he started to flick his tongue in and out of Dad, making him shiver and jump each time. His ears and face burned with pleasure, and he let go of all the rules in his mind about how things like this were supposed to go. Bro wasn’t following any rules; he was just doing what he felt like, and Dad placed himself at his mercy and just allowed himself to feel it.   
  
With one last kiss, Bro lifted his face away and let Dad’s ass go back together. He placed a kiss on Dad’s right cheek and then slid up onto the bed, so his face was right next to his. Dad was still too helpless to do anything but pant, but he looked into Bro’s eyes and saw an expression there that he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. He felt Bro’s fingers reach up and run through his hair, and he closed his eyes into the sensation. He felt Bro kiss his forehead.   
  
“You alright, babe?” he asked, and Dad’s heart started to feel something else; something deeper than just attraction and lust. Bro was being affectionate. He was caring about him.  
  
“Yes. That was very enjoyable. No, that’s an understatement, but I don’t really know how to express…”  
  
He saw in Bro’s smile that he knew. Dad smiled back at him.

“But if you don’t mind, I need to move. My old knees don’t really like this.” Dad said. Bro nodded and got off the bed, and Dad’s joints cracked in protest as he slowly rose to his feet. He stood up straight and arched his back as he stretched, and Bro patiently waited for him without a single gesture of complaint.  
  
After he was satisfied that his body was back in order, Dad turned to Bro and stepped right up to him, leaving no space between them. He raised his hand tentatively up to Bro’s cheek; a gesture he’d done to several women, but now it meant something much deeper. He rested the backs of his fingers on the side of his face and Bro closed his eyes as he gently stroked him. Dad leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss, and Bro opened his lips slowly, following his lead, keeping Dad’s steady pace.  
  
Bro slowly raised his hands up to wrap them around Dad’s back and pulled him close. Dad’s heart raced with lust and affection and then both of his hands were on Bro’s face, his kisses becoming deeper and more passionate. Bro slid his tongue out to trace over Dad’s lips and he responded by sliding his own deep into Bro’s mouth. The younger man groaned and Dad held him tightly close, air rushing from his nose in heavy pants as his heart hammered in his chest.  
  
Dad felt himself growing more lustful as the moments passed. He hardly thought twice about it as he slid his palms down Bro’s body, over his sides and stomach and down to the button on his jeans. He wanted what was in them and Bro didn’t stop him as he slid down the zipper more impatiently than he’d intended. He slid his fingers inside the waistband of both his jeans and boxers, sliding them down to Bro’s thighs and that was far enough. He felt Bro’s hardness rub against his stomach and then it was in his hand. Bro groaned into his mouth as he wrapped his fingers around him and pulled down. Bro tried to touch his in return, but Dad gently pushed his hand away. He wanted to return the sensations he had just felt, without distraction.  
  
He pushed Bro back towards the bed. Bro slowly sank to his back, and as he shimmied up to the head, Dad removed his pants the rest of the way. He paused for a moment to take in the sight of Bro, his body naked and flushed, ears and face burning red, erection hard and inviting him as he lay on his back.   
  
Eagerly, Dad crawled up to lay beside him, taking his dick into his palm. Bro moaned as Dad traced his thumb over the tip, spreading his precum over it, making him slick. He teased him in slow circles, his thumb tracing repetitious patterns over the swollen head until Bro’s breath was labored and heavy. He then wrapped his fingers around the shaft and started to pump him, a little quicker than he’d intended to.   
  
“Oh, fuuuuck…” Bro’s deep voice moaned, and Dad leaned down to kiss that adorably profane mouth as his hand worked to give his lover pleasure.  
  
It wasn’t long before Bro was lifting his hips, thrusting up into Dad’s hand, his shaft growing solidly hard and purple. Bro panted into his mouth and Dad’s heart beat with affection as he realized how much he enjoyed watching Bro’s expressions of pleasure. Bro groaned and shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth as he bucked into Dad’s touch.  
  
“Fuuuuuuck, Egbert, I wanna fuck you so bad…” he said softly, and Dad’s ears burned with embarrassment and excitement and fear at those words.  
  
“…wh…what?” he asked softly. His grip on Bro faltered as his nerves started to go haywire.  
  
Bro’s palm was on his face instantly.  
  
“Shhh, I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to, I was just saying I felt like that, you’re making me feel so good.”  
  
Dad closed his eyes in relief.  
  
“You won’t be disappointed if that doesn’t happen?” he asked quietly.  
  
Bro shook his head vigorously, his body still trying to buck into Dad’s hand with desperation.  
  
“No. Fuck, how the hell could this possibly be disappointing? Do you know how fucking sexy you are?”  
  
Dad’s heart glowed with affection again. He tightened his grip on Bro and began to pump him once more, his pulse hammering in his ears. He’d never been called sexy before. No…that wasn’t true. He had. But it had never felt like this.

He watched as Bro bit his lower lip and squeezed his eyes closed. He shamelessly thrust himself into Dad’s hand, allowing far more expression on his face than Dad had ever seen on him before.   
  
“Oh, fuck yes!” he cried, and his dick grew rigid between Dad’s fingers as his cum squirted out over his bare chest and Dad’s hand. Dad’s eyes closed halfway as he watched Bro have an orgasm at his fingertips, his chest and stomach heaving for breath.  
  
The moment Bro was finished he rolled over until his body was on top of Dad’s, shoving their lips hard together as Dad’s head sank into a pillow. Bro’s cum dripped off of his stomach and started to spread everywhere, but neither of them paid it any mind. Bro’s tongue was tracing a fast, impatient line down Dad’s chest until he took the tip of his swollen dick into his mouth. Dad groaned deeply and tangled his fingers into Bro’s hair, the desire to be close to him overwhelming as he felt the hot, wet heat of Bro’s mouth surround him.  
  
Dad shut his eyes and bucked up into Bro’s mouth. Watching Bro cum had made him impossibly horny and the sensations surrounding him now were almost unbearable. He wanted more. He knew the feeling Bro had just spoken of a few moments ago. This was not enough.  
  
“Dirk…please…” he said, but Bro’s mouth was too full to reply. His only response was to pull up hard on Dad’s erection, sucking the entire way until he was almost out, and then shoving him deep into his throat again. Dad cried out, lifting his hips up towards Bro’s face, his fingers stroking his hair in messy, rough patterns.  
  
“Please…Dirk…do what you did to me…in the shower…” he tried again, words mostly failing him and his shyness getting in the way, preventing him from outright asking for what he really wanted.  
  
But Bro knew. He sealed his lips tightly over Dad’s erection and pulled all the way up, letting it leave his mouth so that Bro could look into his eyes.  
  
“Hang on.” he said, and he rose off the bed and began digging through his suitcase. He was back in seconds with a tube of lubricant, and Dad’s heart raced as his eyes grew wide. He watched Bro spread it over his fingers, and Bro winked at him as he set the tube down on the bed.  
  
“Lift your knees, baby,” he said softly, and suddenly Dad was unsure, his nerves going haywire, his brain trying to kick in and tell him this was a bad idea.  
  
But his knees were bending, though his legs were shaking as he raised them, and Bro pushed his legs apart with his elbows, leaving him feeling more exposed than he’d ever felt in his life. Bro took Dad’s erection into his dry palm, stroking him until Dad relaxed, his mind becoming lost in the sensation.

He felt Bro’s fingers slide between his ass cheeks and his pulse raced furiously. He was unimaginably nervous and he thought about changing his mind when he felt Bro’s finger slide into him.  
  
“Eeeyah!” he cried, the sensation completely strange and alien; it felt entirely different lying down than it had standing up and he squirmed with discomfort.  
  
“Shhh, I got you,” Bro said softly, his other hand still stroking his penis, keeping his mind clouded with lust. Bro started to move his finger in and out of him, pressing against the walls inside him, stroking against his prostate. Sensation pulsed through his body, thick and heavy, and after a few seconds it became immensely pleasurable.  
  
“Ohhhhhhhhhh….” was all Dad could say. He’d forgotten just how good this felt, but he became a puddle of helplessness as Bro stroked him inside, slowly, repeatedly, relentlessly. Dad closed his eyes and let the sensation take over him, pleasure rushing to every cell of his body. Bro started to pump his dick then, and Dad whimpered and cried out, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.  
  
“Ohhh…Dirk….” he said, and Bro took that to mean move faster. His finger flicked over that most sensitive spot, changing the sensation, driving Dad wild. He wanted more and he lifted his hips to show how he felt. Bro moved his hand faster, and Dad keened. Before long Bro was outright fucking him with his finger, repeatedly teasing his prostate, and Dad was shoving himself back against him, his body crying for more.  
  
He felt his dick grow rigid and then Bro’s attention was focused on that, increasing his speed until he was pumping him as fast as he was fucking him. Dad became overwhelmed and cried out as the pleasure spilled over the top, pulsing out of him in waves as he felt his own cum spill onto his stomach. Satisfied desire left him in waves until he had nothing left, and he collapsed onto his back, shaking. Bro pulled his finger out of him and he winced a bit at the change in sensation. He flushed heavily.  
  
“Dirk…” he said softly, and then Bro was lying down beside him, pulling him into his arms, neither of them caring about the mess they made all over the sheets and each other. Dad wrapped his arms around Bro as well and kissed him, gently, sweetly, and he smiled.  
  
“I…I…thank you,” was all he could muster. Bro gave him a cocky grin that a few months ago he would have hated, and now he couldn’t get enough of.  
  
“Fuck yes,” Bro said. “Best fishing trip I’ve ever been on.”  
  
“I knew I could get you to like it.” Dad replied. He yawned then, the excursions of driving all day, fishing all evening, and now this having completely wiped him out.  
  
“I know I just had the shower last, so you can go first, so you have some hot water.” Dad offered.  
  
Bro shook his head. “Nah, dude. You take like, five second showers. You go first.”  
  
Dad wanted to protest, but he was too tired to argue. Instead he gave Bro a peck on his lips and took his offer, showering quickly so that there would be some hot water left for Bro. He snuggled into his pajamas while Bro was showering, and he didn’t mean to, but he fell asleep before he finished, a satisfied and pleasant smile on his face.


	16. Chapter 16

The week passed by as what Dad could only describe as the most perfect experience of his life.  He woke up far too late each morning to catch the fish biting at sunrise, and he didn’t even mind.  He went fishing at sunset instead, catching some for dinner and a few extras to freeze and bring home.  He spent the long afternoons relaxing in the peace of nature, listening to the water flow, watching the leaves blow in the gentle breeze.

            He let his thoughts wander wherever they would; and they mostly went right back to the cabin, to the man who was waiting for him.  But he also thought about his family; about how he started to miss John a little more each day; about how next year he was definitely going to bring him and teach him everything he knew.  He thought about Rose, and how proud he was of her beautiful musical abilities and endearing intelligence.  He smiled to himself as he thought of the places she was going in the world; there wasn’t anyone or anything that could stop her, if she put her mind to it. 

            He thought about his wife, with fondness and a bit of sadness, as he knew she probably wouldn’t be his wife for much longer.  As each day passed by, he realized with a growing solidity that he would never be able to turn back to his old life.  He didn’t know how he’d even gotten this far in life without realizing who he was; but now that he knew, there was nothing he could do about it.  He thought about ways he might tell her; but none of it mattered, in the end.  This was the sort of thing that you couldn’t phrase a certain way to make it hurt less.  It was the news itself, and he owed it to her to be truthful, if nothing else.

             But each day when he walked along the trail to return to the cabin, all of those thoughts faded.  His heart hammered in his chest like he was a teenager as he thought about who was waiting for him.  It took him the better part of three days to truly admit to himself what he was feeling; but by Thursday evening, Dad accepted that he was in love.

            He came out of the clearing and found Bro sunning himself on the picnic table, wearing nothing but boxer shorts.  He lay with arms folded under his head, back resting on the tablecloth, shades folded over his waist band.

            When Dad’s shadow fell across his face, Bro kept his eyes closed, but he smiled in an incredibly genuine way- and he’d been doing that, more and more.  Dad’s heart gave a little jump. 

            “Back so early, darlin?” Bro said.  Dad had learned during the past week that Bro and Dave were originally from Texas- and now that he knew that, he witnessed Bro allowing himself to show his accent.  Dad’s eartips turned red.  He reached out his fingertips and brushed them against Bro’s cheek.

            “I didn’t want to be away any longer.” he said softly, the truthfulness of his words sinking deeply into him, setting into the foundation of who he was.

            Bro reached down to pull his shades up.  He slid them slowly onto his face, opened his eyes, and grinned.

            “Thought I’d at least given you enough last night to last until dinner.  You’re an insatiable beast, Egbert.”

            “Is that a complaint?” Dad said, his tone playful, a teasing grin on his face.

            “Hell fucking no.  I never thought sex with the same dude so many nights in a row would stay this interesting.”

            Dad’s cheeks flushed and his heart glowed.  He was learning to translate the things Bro said into the things he actually meant- and right now he was speaking frightfully close to the truth, for him.  He was openly admitting that Dad was more interesting to him than anyone else had ever been.  Dad wasn’t sure what that meant…but he knew what he wanted it to mean.

            “I am…” he began, his brow furrowing as he contemplated how to say what he wanted to, without pushing too far and making Bro suddenly closed off to him.  He took a deep breath.

            “I’m going to tell my wife about this affair, when we get back.” he said, with finality.

            Bro sat up, more quickly than Dad had expected.  He took a step back as the younger man oriented himself with his feet on the picnic table bench.

            “Better clarify that a little more, old man.” Bro said.  Dad paused.  He could hear the uncertainty in Bro’s voice.  He could hear the emotion.  Bro…was emotionally invested in this.  Dad swallowed.

            “I’m going to be truthful.  I’m going to tell her that I’ve realized I’m gay; that I’m in love with another man, but that I still love her, also.”

            He realized, too late, that what he was really confessing, at this moment, were his feelings to Bro.

            Bro stared at him, his face suddenly the usual stone it was used to; Dad could not read a single inch of it.  He had no idea what Bro was feeling, and it was beyond disconcerting.  He’d have to say, in fact, that he felt afraid.  He’d just leapt off of a cliff and had put himself in the position of possibly losing everyone that he loved, all in one shot, except for John.

            “You’re in love with me.” Bro stated.  Dad nodded firmly. 

            “Yes.”

            “Huh.” Bro said, his brow furrowing as he turned his head to stare out into the trees.  “Welp, can’t say I’ve never heard that before.” he said.  Dad didn’t respond; he knew that sentence was just there so Bro could stall as he tried to collect himself.

            “But you still love the missus.”

            Dad nodded with certainty.

            “Yes.”

            “So…are you going to leave her, or some shit?”

            He shrugged, trying his best to keep the shaking from his voice, wondering how in the world Bro did it; hide all of his emotions so deeply no one could see them.

            “I will leave that up to her.”

            Bro folded his hands and nodded.

            “Right.  So I guess what you do with me depends on what she says, too.”

            “No.”

            The forcefulness with which he said it surprised him.

            “That part is up to you.” Dad said, much more gently.  “I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

            Bro surprised him completely when he rose to his feet and brought his lips to Dad’s without hesitation.  His strong arms wrapped around him affectionately and Dad’s heart flew into his throat.  He tried to speak, but Bro’s lips insisted upon kissing him and he complied, kissing him back with more desperation than he’d known he’d been feeling.

            Bro pulled back, his lips shining with wetness in the sunlight.

            “Gonna be frank with you, Egbert.  The way this thing is going, that might be kind of a long time, if you’re going to leave us up to me.”

            Dad’s hand rose shakily, and he couldn’t help it; his eyes watered.  He had observed Bro growing more affectionate towards him the longer they were together, but he’d never expected to hear a confession as meaningful as that.  He rested his palm on Bro’s cheek and blinked, a few tears dropping down his cheeks.  Bro reached up and wiped them away, even as he shook his head.

            “Come on, old man, you’re embarrassing both of us.” he said, but his voice cracked, giving him away.

            “Are you embarrassed in front of squirrels?  I didn’t know Bro Strider had to struggle so hard for his reputation.” Dad mocked, and though he couldn’t see it, he knew Bro was rolling his eyes. 

            “Well, with a tightass like you hanging on my arm, I have to work twice as hard.” he said.  “Especially if I’m gonna take a shot at this committed relat-”

            Bro couldn’t finish his sentence because Dad’s lips were immediately against his.  He was done holding back.  He was finished with being afraid.  He roughly pulled their bodies close together, and Bro gave a surprised grunt.  Dad slid his tongue out and along Bro’s lips, making him groan. 

            “Uhn, Egbert, you haven’t even shower-”

            “I don’t care right now.  Do you?” Dad said as he pulled back just a hair, his voice husky, his breath panting.

            “Fuck no.” Bro said, grabbing Dad’s hand and pulling him into the cabin.  They both raced to the bedroom like kids, and for the first time in over thirty years, Dad slammed a door.  He saw Bro hurrying to remove his clothes and he quickly followed suit, their naked bodies coming back together quickly as they crawled on top of the bed.  Dad pushed Bro down onto his back and kissed his neck, sucking to leave marks, no longer caring about the consequences that the real world would bring on Sunday.

            He felt Bro’s dick brush against his and he ground his hips down to rub them together.  Bro groaned and lifted his hips in return, his reaction making Dad’s blood pulse even harder.  He felt Bro’s hand wander down his chest and then wrap their cocks together in his palm.  He started to stroke them both and Dad moaned, panting, breathless.

            He bucked against the friction, his eyes closed in pleasure.  A week ago he never would have imagined moving this quickly; he had felt shy, but now Bro was familiar.  He knew him.  Passion drove him down into the body underneath him like he’d never felt with any other person; a budding trust kept his fear at bay, and a growing love made him want it to last forever.

            Dad felt the pressure growing in his balls already, and he pulled back.  Not yet; he did not want this to end before it began.  He didn’t need to explain himself to Bro; he already knew.  Instead he lowered his lips to his chest and began to kiss over his skin, tasting him, smelling him, feeling him.  He unabashedly ran his tongue over Bro’s nipple, licking it repeatedly until the man underneath him shuddered and groaned. 

            Dad pulled back to look down at the panting mess underneath him and smiled.  Bro then smirked, and with a quick motion of his arms and legs, somehow flipped Dad onto his back. 

            “How do you _do_...thaaa…”

            Dad’s sentence became irrelevant as Bro’s lips ghosted over his erection, his tongue teasing lightly up one side, over the tip and then down the other.  He planted kisses down Dad’s shaft, lightly grazing his teeth over the swollen flesh, making Dad’s voice able to produce nothing more than moans.

            Bro opened his lips over his tip and sank down, plunging Dad into the wet heat of his mouth.  The older man’s fingers wrapped themselves into Bro’s blond hair, forgetting his manners completely as he forced his head down while he bucked up with his hips.  Bro didn’t seem to mind whatsoever; he only moaned and sucked, pushing his tongue firmly against the underside of Dad’s dick.

            Without thinking about it, Dad bucked up into that delicious wet heat, feeling twenty times more amazing than he’d ever felt having intercourse with a woman.  Bro was exceedingly good at giving blow jobs, as he’d recently discovered, and his brain melted into thoughtless bliss as he felt the full extent of Bro’s talent.

            After a few moments of that, Bro reached over to the bottle that now sat on the top of the nightstand, being needed every night as it was.  Without losing a single moment in his sucking, Bro slathered his fingers and worked them down between Dad’s ass cheeks, sliding his index finger in smoothly, effortlessly.  Dad automatically raised his knees and relaxed to let him in; the anticipation of the pleasure he was about to feel driving him to be compliant. 

            He groaned as Bro stroked his prostate, his chin pointing upwards as he shuddered, the sensations pouring through his body with heat.  Bro sank down onto his cock as he slid his finger in, and sucked up with his tight lips as he pulled his finger out, the work of a true master of rhythm driving it’s way along Dad’s nerves.  He was so lost in the sensation that he had no complaints when Bro slid a second finger into him; in fact he found that he greatly liked it. 

            The lust built up suddenly as thoughts raced through Dad’s head.  He shuddered and whimpered, and Bro took his cue to pull away, leaving Dad panting on the brink of desperation. 

            “You are…incredible.” he said, and Bro gave him the sexiest smirk imaginable, complete with a wink for effect.

            “It feels unjust that I can’t return that feeling to you.” Dad said.  Bro shrugged.

            “No big deal.  Trust me, I’m getting plenty out of this.”

            Dad shook his head.

            “No.  This exchange has been entirely unfair, all in my favor, since we started this.” Dad said.  His mind wasn’t being consulted; he was drowning in lust and it was leading him to thoughts he knew he’d never have when his wits were about him.  “I need to give back to you what you’ve given me.”

            “Egbert, what are you babbling about?  You don’t owe me a damn thing.”

            Dad reached up and took Bro’s hand, pulling him close, staring into his brilliant red eyes.

            “Then do it because I want it.  I want you, and I want to know what it feels like.”

            Bro’s eyebrows furrowed as he frowned.

            “Dude, what are…”

            “In your own eloquent words, I want you to fuck me.” Dad said. 

            A slow, wide grin spread across Bro’s face.  He leaned forward until his lips hovered only an inch above Dad’s.

            “Really.” he said, his breath hot against Dad’s mouth, his bare chest resting on top of Dad’s as he felt him breathe.

            “Yes.” Dad said, the needy state Bro had put him in still driving his decisions; making him easily overcome the fear and nervousness he knew he should have felt about this situation.

            Bro closed the gap between their lips and kissed Dad slowly, pulling his lips back just a hair between kisses, letting strings of drool fall between them.  He lowered his hips and bucked down, pressing his erection roughly against Dad’s pelvis.

            “Uhnnn…” Dad said softly, and Bro smiled against his neck as he planted slow kisses there, tickling his skin with his tongue.  He paused with his lips resting against Dad’s ear and spoke in a very low, soft mumur.

            “You’re not gonna regret this, baby.” he said, and Dad felt shivers race down his spine.  He closed his eyes as he felt Bro reach for the bottle of lube, and opened them again when he felt Bro’s heat leave him.  He saw Bro raised up on his knees, stroking his own hardened dick with the slick gel, a deeply lustful expression on his face.  He then reached down his fingers, slicking them between Dad’s ass cheeks, and Dad bent his knees farther, letting him in.

            He groaned as Bro’s fingers slid into him.  He had to admit that he loved when he did that.  He’d asked for it every night until Bro started doing it without waiting for permission; the way his knuckles pressed against Dad’s ass, the way his fingertips stroked him inside; he couldn’t get enough.  He felt Bro slide a third finger into him and he moaned, lifting his hips toward him, wanting more. 

            “Well look who’s so eager, all of a sudden.” Bro said.  Dad raised his eyes to look up into his face and felt an overwhelming array of emotions.  He was wildly in love; his heart beat with nervous excitement and apprehension, lust and want and trust.  There was no one else he wanted to be with.  There was nowhere else he wanted to be.

            Bro gently slid his fingers out and gazed down at Dad with half-closed eyes.

            “Probably be easiest for your old back if you turn over.” he said.  Dad nodded, his thoughts lost in the sound of Bro’s voice, his heart glowing from how considerate Bro’s thoughts were, even while the words he chose to express them with remained immature and abrasive.  Shaking, Dad turned onto his hands and knees, and he felt Bro stroke his ass soothingly, lovingly.  He planted a few kisses there and then rose up on his knees.  Dad felt his warm erection slide up between his ass cheeks.  He moaned as his cheeks flushed hot. 

            He felt Bro move, and felt the tip of his dick rest against his exposed rectum.  Dad clenched his jaw as he waited.

            “You ready?” Bro asked, and Dad nodded.  Bro’s fingers pried him open and he pushed.  Dad lowered his head and shut his eyes tightly.  It was quite uncomfortable.

            Bro slid further in and Dad held his breath.  This was more than he’d anticipated and he wasn’t sure this was a good idea, after all.  He gasped and grunted.  Bro kept pushing.

            “Ssss…stop.” Dad said softly.  Bro halted immediately.  Dad felt his hand gently stroking his ass cheek.

            “Dude?” Bro asked, and Dad understood the unspoken question; he knew Bro would leave him if he asked.

            “Just need…a moment.” was what he replied, instead. 

            “Sure, babe.” Bro replied, his voice easy and smooth as it always was. 

            Dad waited.  He could feel the discomfort fading as he did, and he thought perhaps…

            “Alright.” he said, and Bro slid in a bit farther, and he winced and shook his head.

            “Shhhh…” Bro said softly, and he felt him pulling back out.

            “No, I mean, don’t give up…”

            “I’m not, darlin’.  Just trust me.” Bro said softly, and Dad felt him push in again, not any farther than he’d gone the first time.  He slowly started to slide in and out, just that far, which Dad suspected wasn’t even close to half the length of Bro’s dick.  He had the mental capacity, just for a moment, to wonder at the level of Bro’s self-control.  He knew he wouldn’t have had that for anyone else.  He took amazing care of Dad; he always had.  That was what had gotten them here in the first place.  That was the reason they were together at all.

            Bro slowly pushed in a little further, each time he slid in.  There was discomfort, but it wasn’t unbearable; though it did prevent this activity from feeling pleasurable.  Dad knew how much Bro wanted this, though; and when he heard him moan softly behind him, he wanted to continue.  Bro continued to work his way slowly farther in, and when Dad finally felt the warmth of Bro’s body press against his ass, he heard the younger man groan.

            “Oh, yeah.” Bro said, his voice shaking, his hands clasping Dad’s hips, one lubricated, one dry.  He pulled out and thrust back in a little more forcefully than before, groaning, picking up the pace.

            And Dad found himself able to take it.  In fact, the harder Bro went, the more it stretched him and the easier it was to take him in again.  The discomfort faded and Dad started to feel okay.  Very okay.  More than okay.

            Bro pulled out nearly all the way and pushed back in, and Dad groaned.

            “Oh, yeah, baby, that’s it.” Bro said, his voice nothing more than a hushed whisper.  He thrust his hips forward and Dad whimpered with both pain and pleasure.  Bro pulled back and snapped his hips forward in expert fashion, driving himself into Dad with a passion that Dad had never done himself.  His elbows grew weak and his face melted into the mattress as he offered himself to his lover, the throbbing pulse of being _taken_ singing through him in a new way.  Bro became all he could think about; all he could feel; all he ever wanted to feel.  The sound of their flesh slapping together echoed how Dad felt; more, closer, deeper.

            “Uhhhh…” was all he was able to say, but Dirk understood.  The pounding rhythm of pressure was steady and reliable, heavenly and powerful.  Bro’s breaths came as heavy and hard as his pounding, and when Dad felt his fingers clench around his hips, he moaned along with him.  Bro shoved himself uncomfortably deep into Dad, burying his dick into him as he came, his body shaking, his knuckles white.

            “Fuuuuck.” he whispered, pressing his chest into Dad’s back as he wrapped his arms around his waist.

            “Yes, quite.” Dad said, his voice breathy as well.  Bro slowly slid out of him, and he ached, everything ached.  He felt wet mess drip down his thighs and didn’t care.  He collapsed to the mattress, and Bro collapsed beside him.

            “Roll over.” he commanded, pushing Dad’s shoulder, helping him along.  Before Dad even finished Bro’s lips were around his cock, which grew hard very quickly.  Dad moaned shamelessly as Bro sucked him expertly.  He tangled his fingers into his hair and bucked up into that sensual mouth.  He only lasted another moment before he orgasmed into Bro’s mouth, the pleasure on Bro’s red cheeks evident as he swallowed every drop of it.  Dad groaned softly, exhausted, worn out.  Bro pulled off of him and crawled up to lay on his stomach beside him.

            Dad rolled onto his stomach and draped one arm over Bro’s waist.  They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, and Dad smiled softly. 

            “So.  How was it.” Bro asked.

            “I’ll admit, the majority of it was quite uncomfortable, but you were right.” Dad said, and he watched with entertainment as Bro raised one eyebrow.

            “I definitely do not regret it.” he said, his smile growing wider.      




            He watched with surprise as Bro returned the expression, his eyes crinkling up in a way he’d never seen as the most sincere smile he’d shown yet blossomed across his face.

            “Knew I could win you over, from the minute I saw you staring at me the day we laid that walk.”           




            “Oh, have you been trying since then?  I didn’t know you fancied stuffy older men like that.”

            Bro snorted as he sat up and reached for the tissues to clean himself off.

            “I so do not.” he replied.  He leaned over and put his hand underneath Dad’s chin, tilting it up towards him as he pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.  “Only one.” he said, and then he rose up and left, the soft click of the bathroom door reaching Dad’s ears a few seconds later.  He knew from experience now that he’d never stay awake long enough for Bro to finish showering, so he didn’t even try.  Instead he let himself drift off, a wistful smile on his face.  He’d taken a risk; he’d said his true feelings, and it had turned out better than he possibly could have imagined. 

 


	17. Chapter 17

Dad let his gaze wander to the passenger seat far more often than he should, considering  he was driving a motor vehicle.  But the way the sunlight fell over Bro’s golden hair as he looked out the window was too beautiful to ignore; the peacefulness that appeared on his face too rare to waste.  He let the serenity of the interior of the car seep into his mind and he relaxed, trying not to think about the disaster that awaited him at home.  Instead he only thought about what a wonderful trip they’d had, about how very in love he was, about how free he felt being able to say it, and about how he’d get to see John when he got home.

The sun set as they drove, and it had been dark for a few hours when he pulled off the highway and drove into his town.  A bit of sadness and fear crept into him when he turned onto his own block.  The future was so incredibly uncertain now.  He glanced over at Bro one last time, wondering if this was really worth it.  The air of romance was gone now.  Instead, Bro turned to look at him with an expression of absolute realness.  This was going to change both of their lives; all of their lives.  Dad just didn’t know if it would be for the better.

Bro reached out and gave his hand a squeeze.  The gesture was comforting.  It gave him enough courage to unbuckle his seat belt, open the door, and stand up. 

As they walked towards the house, Dad thought it was odd that all the lights appeared to be off.  Had everyone gone to bed already?  In case they had, he opened the door quietly and quickly slipped into the kitchen before he turned on the light.  A note was stuck to the fridge.

“Darling, I was called away for a business meeting at the last moment.  The kids are all staying with one of Rose’s friends; the number is by the phone.  I should be back tomorrow night.  Can’t wait to see you.  Love, Roxy.”

Relief that he didn’t have to do this just now spread through Dad, making him collapse against the fridge.  Bro reached out and rubbed his hand along his back, planting soothing kisses along Dad’s neck.

Dad turned and pulled him close, leaning forward to kiss Bro’s lips.  Their kisses were slow and lazy, their tongues moving gently to spend as much time together as possible before breaking apart to move back and together again.  Bro’s palm on Dad’s back tightened as he gripped his shirt, and he groaned softly.  Dad wrapped his arms around him in return and pulled them tightly together.  Their kisses became heavier, their moans deeper.  Bro reached down to grab his ass and squeezed.  It doomed him.

They stumbled up the stairs to Dad’s room, still groping at each other, still kissing like teenagers.  Dad pulled Bro roughly into his room and slammed the door.

“I can’t wait to get you in my own bed.” he said into his lips, and Bro’s only response was to cram his tongue into Dad’s panting mouth.  It was like they hadn’t just spent a week in total privacy with each other; Dad had never had Bro in his room and it felt right; it felt perfect.

Bro reached down to lift his own shirt over his head and Dad hurriedly did the same.  They both stripped themselves as quickly as possible and then Bro was pushing Dad down onto the bed, his lips hungry as he sucked at Dad’s neck.  He ground down into him and Dad moaned unabashedly as he felt Bro’s hardened dick push against his pelvis.  They hadn’t made love last night because Dad had insisted that they be up early to start the drive home, and Bro was clearly no longer feeling that he needed to hold back, because he wasn’t.  His lips were already sliding down Dad’s chest, his hands massaging Dad’s thighs as he lowered his lips to his half-hardened dick.  It wasn’t half-hard for long.

Dad groaned and bucked, wrapping his fingers in Bro’s hair as he pushed himself into his lover’s mouth.  Bro’s tongue traced up the length of one side while his lips pressed against the others, surrounding Dad in the hot wetness of his mouth.  Bro smoothly slid his hand around Dad’s leg to his inner thigh and up under his balls without hesitation, when he stopped and pulled up, his mouth leaving Dad’s dick with a tight suck that left him panting on the bed.

“Left the supplies down in the car.” Bro said, getting up and yanking on his jeans.  “Don’t go anywhere, baby.  You just keep on laying there looking sexy.”  He gave a wink and left, giving Dad a perfect view of his muscular back as he walked out of sight down the hall.  Instead of rolling his eyes at Bro’s ridiculous lines and behavior, Dad only sighed like the kid in love that he was, and let his head fall back to the pillow with contentment.

Bro rummaged through the car until he found his luggage and hurried back into the house, distracted by his current activity so much that he didn’t notice the familiar Cadillac as it turned the corner and slowly came down the street, pulling into the driveway thirty seconds after he’d left it.

______________________________________________________________________

Days in the past, but not many.

Roxy rummaged through the bathroom drawer, grumbling as she looked for her favorite travel make-up bag.  She’d left a pair of earrings in it that went with the outfit she was going to wear to her business meeting, and it was driving her a bit nuts that she couldn’t find it.  Finally, after twenty minutes of tearing her bathroom apart, she remembered that she’d brought it to a party at the house of one of her husband’s work friends, Martin something. 

She dug through her purse until she found their number and gave them a call.  She knew Martin would be away on the fishing trip, but she hoped someone else would be home. 

“Hello?” a man’s voice picked up.

“H…hello, um…I…”

What?

“…Martin?”

“Yes?”

Maybe she’d gotten the list of people who were going on the trip mixed up.  Oh well.

“Oh, um, sorry.  Hi, this is Roxy Egbert.  I was at your house for a party last weekend.”

“Ah, yes, how are you?”

“Good, good.  A little lonely with my husband gone on the fishing trip, but otherwise I’m doing fine.  Busy with work as usual.”

“Fishing trip?”

Her fingers turned cold and tightened around the phone.  No.  Martin was one of his best friends; that’s why they’d been invited over to his house last week.  He wouldn’t…No.  He would never lie like that…perhaps they knew Martin wasn’t able to go for some reason, and so hadn’t told him about the trip?  But then, he would have mentioned that to her, he wasn’t the kind of man who kept secrets…

“Mrs. Egbert?”

“Yes, oh, I’m sorry.  I suppose he didn’t tell you he was going.”

“I suppose not.  He did mention he was going away for a week, took time away from the office.  We were all wondering what it was for; I’d assumed he was going with you.”

Her heart grew cold and her knuckles turned white.  We all.  We all were wondering.

He hadn’t lied to one of them.  He’d lied to _all_ of them. 

“…No one else has taken off this week?”

“Not that I know of.”  Martin’s voice was softer; she could hear the sympathy in it.  He was thinking the same awful things. 

“I’m sorry, I…I have to go.”

She hung up wordlessly, her eyes glassy as she stared at the wall and slowly sank to the bed.

Roxy Lalonde Egbert was not a stupid woman.  She had seen the change in her husband over the last few months; had noticed his happiness, his joyfulness, the way his laugh had changed and become more jubilant, the way his smile had become brighter.  And she had also noticed that when she told him how wonderful it was to see him so happy, that he’d suddenly stop for a moment and grow quiet.

She had noticed that he’d been playing golf a lot more than usual; that he’d been staying out at late games more frequently, but she had attributed that to him feeling young and energetic again.  Which he was.  And now she knew why.

Over the course of the next few days, she thought more and more about the situation.  His more frequent disappearances; his friends’ sudden need to watch their kids overnight, his coming home in different clothes.  He had lied; he had lied about it all, and she’d believed every word of it, because he was such an honest man.  She’d never questioned him.  But it made perfect sense.  In fact, she’d been waiting for this to happen.

Miss Lalonde was a gorgeous woman; strong, intelligent, and financially well-off.  Yet she had never settled down and married- because no matter how dashing, romantic, or attentive a man was, she was never interested in anything sexual with them.  Not one, not ever.  She liked to hold hands; she loved hugs, she liked to cuddle, she loved to kiss, sweet romantic kisses under the moon and stars.  But that was all.  She didn’t want hands on her body.  She didn’t want to touch anyone else’s.  After she’d tried sex that one time, just that one time, and had gotten Rose out of it, she swore she’d never do it again.  And so the boyfriends had all left her, each and every one. 

Except for Mr. Egbert.  Gentle, responsible, kind and patient, he was everything she’d dreamed of in a man.  He was a perfect partner, a perfect husband, and most of all, a wonderful father to Rose.  And impossibly, he seemed as uninterested in sex as she was.  He’d never asked for it.  They’d tried it on their wedding night, and it had been sweet and awkward.  He’d never asked for it again.  And she was quite content with that.

But perhaps that was just part of his considerate nature.  He could tell that she was uncomfortable with physical love.  He could see she didn’t want it- but he did.  He did, and he hid that from her, for a long time, for her sake.  She knew he did it out of love.  But he broke.  Like anyone would, she supposed.  That must have explained his sudden friendship with Bro Strider.  A man of the night life, he would know how to find a woman for him to be with, dates, dancing…hotels late at night.

Roxy blinked her eyes and tears fell to her lap.  They surprised her.  She didn’t feel sad; she felt numb, shocked, uncertain.  She’d expected this, she’d seen it coming, and frankly, she didn’t even blame him.  She had never entered into this marriage with any misconceptions that they would be sexual partners.  She had wanted a father for Rose.  And he was that.  And she had wanted a life-partner, someone to share goals with, dreams with, retire with and go on vacations with- and he was that, too. 

She wiped the tears from her eyes and rose from the bed.  She walked downstairs to the liquor cabinet and selected her favorite brandy.  It was a very expensive bottle, bought as a first-wedding anniversary gift, and she thought this an appropriate occasion to drink the rest of it.

__________________________________________________________

A few days in the future, but not many.

Roxy drove back to her house numbly.  How could she have forgotten her laptop?  Yes, she was distracted; yes, her life was falling apart, her husband was cheating on her with another woman (she hoped it was just one other woman), and she was responsible for keeping that Strider boy under control for a _week_ as well, while the two of them ran off fucking flighty broads.  Or whatever they were doing. 

But to forget her _laptop_.  It was her _life_.  Everything she needed for that meeting was on it; she hadn’t realized until she’d gotten _to the gate_ at the airport.  She had to leave.  Miss her flight.  Waste the company money buying a ticket in the morning.  Drive all the way the fuck back home.

She pulled into the driveway and frowned.  Had she left all the lights on in the house, too?  She berated herself even more as she walked up the driveway and stuck the key in the lock- to find the door was open.

Worried, she stepped in…and heard voices.  She turned to see light coming from under her bedroom door and recognized the voices immediately.

Her husband’s voice.  Moaning.

Her blood boiled.  He did not.  He did _not_ bring that bimbo _here_ , into _her house_!  Her jaw set and she marched up the stairs; they didn’t even hear her over the racket they were making.  She heard Bro’s voice then, too.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so damn sexy.”

Oh, they did _not_ bring other women into her home, into _her bed_!  She walked down the hall, angry tears brimming at the edges of her eyes.

Roxy grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open so hard it banged loudly into the opposite wall.

Two figures froze at the edge of the bed- and her jaw dropped.

“Oh my God,” Bro said.  Naked, on his knees, with his hands clasped around her husband’s equally naked ass.  Which she could not see, because it was pressed up against Bro’s stomach. 

She stared.

“What…?” she heard her husband say.  He couldn’t see her from the position he was in.  But she could see him.

She saw him, covered in sweat, his ears as red as if he’d been in a steaming hot shower.  She saw his muscles, flexed and tense, his body pressed into the mattress, with Bro…Bro.

The anger in her heart melted almost instantly. 

“Darling,” she said, her voice soft, gentle.  She felt the love that she had for this man bloom to the surface.  He’d been hiding something, all right.  All these years, he’d been hiding it. 

She saw him stiffen at the sound of her voice.  Saw his fear.  She had to absolve him of that, right away.  He shouldn’t be afraid anymore.

“Darling, you could have told me you were gay.”

Her voice was gentle, soothing.  She put all the love that she had for him into it.

“Oh no, oh no.  Roxy.  Roxy, I…”  he tried to move, but was still pinned where he was by Bro’s…

Her cheeks blushed.  Quite heavily.

“No, it’s alright, don’t get up.” she said.  She felt a little tipsy.  Had she had a drink at the airport?  She couldn’t even remember.  It was suddenly very warm in here.

“Don’t…stop on my account.” she said. 

“ _What_?” her husband cried.  “You… _what_?”

Bro smirked.

“You heard the lady.  Let’s keep going.”

“No!  This is highly inappropriate, my _wife_ has just walked in on us and she deserves a proper conversation!”

Roxy sank to the chair by the desk, her heart absolutely glowing.  He was still the same.  After everything she’d been thinking this week, he was still the honorable man she’d married after all.  He wanted to give her a conversation.  Give her what she deserved.

“Darling, please, there is nothing that needs to be said.  I think I get it quite clearly.  Don’t let me interrupt you.”

The fact was, she liked seeing him like this.  Quite a bit more than she’d thought she would.  Bro was pretty nice to look at, too.

“I don’t know…”

“You heard the lady.  It’s rude to keep a lady waiting, Egbert.”  Bro said.  He pulled back and thrust inside of Dad, whose voice cried out with complaint.  Bro thrust again, and the second time it sounded more like a moan.  The third time, it was nothing more than a helpless groan, and Roxy found her cheeks growing as warm as they did from liquor as she watched her husband get pounded into the mattress.

His sounds of pleasure were very pleasant to her.  She had never heard him make such noises, and she frankly didn’t want him to stop.  Bro was pretty delicious to listen to, also, and she leaned her head on her hand as she rested her elbow on the desk and shamelessly watched.  The scene before her was perfect and this moment was _almost_ perfect, except for the lack of a martini in her hands.

She stared at Bro’s muscular back for awhile, and then let her eyes begin to wander.  His firm ass flexed just so as he pushed himself into her husband, his fingers strongly clasping his hips.  Her husband’s face rested on its side, his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks flaming red with passion and probably embarrassment that she was there.  She didn’t care; he didn’t need to feel any shame in front of her, and she was going to tell him that when he was better able to listen.

Lastly her eyes wandered down his torso, to where her view of him was obstructed by Bro’s lithe body.  Yet she could still see how he lifted his ass up to him, how he pushed back into Bro, wanting him even as he was probably trying to tone it down.  His helplessness to the situation was endearing to her.  He was so precious.

“Don’t hide anything for my sake, darling.  Really.  You have no idea how happy this development makes me.”

It was true.  This made everything different.  She knew he wasn’t a liar.  She knew he wouldn’t cheat on her.  He never would.  This was different.  This was…shame.  He’d felt ashamed.  She could tell.  Well.  She wouldn’t let him be ashamed anymore.

Bro’s thrusts grew faster and more desperate.  It was obvious that he wasn’t bothered in the slightest by her presence, and she found her cheeks blushing quite heavily when he grit his teeth and cried out, pushing himself as deeply as he could into his lover and staying there.

His lover.  Her husband; his lover.  Perhaps it should have bothered her, but it didn’t.  She wanted a husband, and she had one.  Bro wanted a lover, and he had that.  This was right.  This was how it should be.

Bro pulled out of her husband, and she heard some gross wet sucking noises that she’d probably rather not have heard.  Bro rose to his feet and for the first time she could see her sweetheart, chest pressed to the bed, knees on the floor, panting and out of breath.  Bro crawled up beside him.  Stroked his hair, gave him a kiss.

She felt a pang of jealousy at that.  He was _hers_ to kiss, her lips, hers…

She watched as he opened his mouth for Bro.  As their tongues slipped together and Bro dove inside his mouth.  Her jealousy vanished.  She didn’t want that.  But damn if she didn’t like watching it.  Her heart raced as they french kissed in front of her and she felt her eyelids flutter halfway shut. 

Bro pushed on her husband’s shoulder and rolled him onto his back.  He pulled away from the kiss as his lips traveled to his chest.  Her husband lifted his head and met her gaze.  She smiled and waved at him in a very flirty way.

“You look quite sexy, darling.” she said.  “Please, continue to enjoy yourself.”

He was opening his mouth to protest when Bro sank his lips over his swollen dick.  Whatever words he had been going to say vanished.  His head fell back to the bed as his hands travelled to Bro’s hair, pushing his head down onto him.  Roxy’s body grew warm at the sight.  He had never reacted like that for her.  She had never wanted him to.  But she was very happy that he could do that for _someone_.

Bro bobbed his head up and down quickly, and she watched her husband’s muscles tense.  Watched as he clasped his hair tightly, forcefully, desperately.  Watched him clench his jaw and flex his muscles and push his dick up into Bro’s mouth.  She heard him gasp and whimper; she watched him shove himself deep into Bro.  Her heart fluttered with pleasantness.  Oh, they were going to do this again.

He shuddered as Bro slowly pulled himself off of his dick, slowly licking the tip with his tongue to get every drop of cum off.  Bro collapsed on the bed beside him and they both panted for a moment.  Then her husband sat up.  He blushed heavily and looked down at the floor.  He hurried over to the hook on the back of the door and grabbed his bathrobe to throw over himself.

“Darling, you act as if I’ve never seen you naked before.”

He wordlessly walked over to her and knelt to the floor by her feet, his hands shaking as he reached out to take hers.

“I’m so sorry.  I never meant to deceive you, I had no idea that I would go this far down this road…”

She reached forward and put her finger under his chin, the way she did when he worried too much about silly things, such as John getting stage fright during his fifth-grade band concert.

“How long, Robert?” she asked softly.

“How long have I been cheating on you?  I promise it hasn’t been this intimate for very long, oh gosh that sounds terrible…”

She reached out and placed one lone index finger over his lips.  She shook her head slowly.

“No, darling.”  He looked up into her eyes…and saw the tenderness in them.  Saw the love in them.  He saw also how clear they were; their brilliant pinkish hue gazing down at him with such compassion that he remembered why he fell in love with this woman in the first place.

“How long have you known you were gay?”

She said it so gently.  He had never been called that before with such tenderness, without any cruelty behind it, without any hatred.

He felt the heat behind his eyes for just a moment as a warning, but was still unprepared for the sobs that escaped his throat.  She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, and he buried his face into her lap.  She didn’t say a word as he ruined her five-hundred-dollar suit with his tears, she only stroked his hair, as lovingly and as tenderly as Bro did- and with much more love.

Years of fear and pain and self-denial poured out of him, heavy and thick.  He tried, and failed, to pull himself together twice before he finally succeeded.  He took a deep breath and sat up, and she wiped his tears away with her perfectly manicured nails flashing before his vision.

“A few months.  Only a few months.” he said softly.  “Bro…Dirk...he…made me realize…helped me discover…”

“Shhh.” she said, stroking his hair in the loving way she always did, absolutely platonically but full of love- like a mother, almost.  “Why don’t we all get properly dressed, and have that conversation you wanted to have.” she said.  He nodded and rose to his feet, his knees clicking and aching as he did so. 

She left them in privacy for a moment, and they got dressed in silence.  As Dad headed toward the door to meet her downstairs, Bro reached out and slid their fingers together.  His grip was firm and warm and solid, absolutely sure, and Dad’s heart glowed with affection.  After all they had done together, they had never held hands before- and somehow, this was the most intimate action Bro had ever offered to him.  They walked down the stairs together.


	18. Chapter 18

She was sitting at the kitchen table, stirring a fresh cup of coffee.  After offering one to everyone else they sat down and quietly looked at each other, no one really knowing how to begin. 

“I love you, Roxy,” Dad said, breaking the silence.

She put down her mug and smiled softly at him.

“I know, darling.  I love you, too.”

She would never tell him that she’d doubted his love for those few awful days.  He didn’t need to know that.  She was beyond relieved to have been wrong.

“I never meant to hurt you.” he said quietly.

“You haven’t.”

He frowned.

“Sweetheart, when have we ever had sex with each other?” she asked.  He thought about it, his brow furrowing.  He really couldn’t remember.  They’d gotten intimate a few times, but actual intercourse…

“It was our wedding night,” she supplied.  “That was the one and only time.”

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry, I’m so very, very sorry…”

She reached across the table and folded her palm over the back of his hand.

“There is no need for that,” she said.  “I am, and have always been, incredibly happy in this marriage, exactly the way it is.”

He looked at her oddly.  She lifted her mug to her lips and took a small sip of her hot coffee, before lowering it and giving a shrug.

“I’m just not interested in that kind of thing.  I’ve been immensely relieved all these years that you haven’t been, either.”

Dad’s eyebrows knitted together as he tried to think.

“Then…did you also want to see someone else…”

She shook her head.

“No, honey.  I’m not gay.  I’m not interested in anyone.”

“Oh.”

He looked down at the table, his face still confused.  Bro remained perfectly silent, clasping Dad’s left hand, while Roxy rested hers over his right.

“But I have seen how happy being with Bro has made you, these past few months,” she said quietly.  She took a deep, heavy breath and closed her eyes.  She gathered all of her strength, bolstered by all of her love, so that she would be able to say the next sentence.

“So if you want to leave me for him, I will understand.”

His eyes flew to hers with certainty.

“No.”

He said it with such forcefulness that she set her mug down on the table.

“No.  I don’t want to leave you.  I love our marriage.  I love our relationship.  I love the life we’ve built together.”

He then turned to the man who sat beside him, and lifted his palm to his cheek.

“But I also love you,” he said.  He turned back to his wife.

“Frankly, I don’t know what to do about it.”

She shrugged.

“Then let’s leave it the way it is, then.”

Mr. Egbert stared at the tablecloth with heavy concentration.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s continue with things just like this.  I will be your wife, and Bro will be your lover.  Except, you don’t have to do the sneaking-around part any more.  Well, not around me, I don’t think we should exactly tell the children about this…”

Bro snorted a laugh, and Dad smiled in response.

“Of course not.”

Dad turned to Bro, then.

“Is that…all right with you?”

Bro shrugged.

“I just wanna fuck you, Egbert.  Whatever terms you give me, if your ass is mine, I’m down.”

Roxy couldn’t help it, she giggled at the crass language.  Dad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is a serious, committed decision we’re making here.”  He looked over to his wife with the weight of the world on his shoulders.  “All three of our children, not to mention us, could be hurt if something goes wrong.  Are you absolutely certain that this is all right with you?”

She looked him directly in the eyes and nodded with finality.

“Yes.  I’m not going to get jealous, I promise.  Bro will never be a better wife than I am.”

At that, a small smile finally started to spread on Dad’s face.  He couldn’t believe this was happening.

This was impossible; it was too good to be true.

“He absolutely will not.  He’s a terrible wife.”

Bro snorted.

Roxy laughed.

“Well, this is a special occasion.” he said, rising to his feet.  “And you know what that calls for.”

“Yes, darling, I would love a slice of cake, thank you.” Roxy said, easing herself out of her suit jacket.  Dad smiled with warmth at how well she knew him.  They hadn’t lost that, not at all.  If anything, he felt closer to her than ever; he had married her for her compassionate and understanding heart, and it was turning out to be of even greater depth than he had ever known.

            They sat in silence for a few minutes while the cake was eaten.  Roxy finished first and washed the last bite of her cake down with her coffee.  She dabbed her lips with a napkin and crossed her legs, leaning against the back of the chair.

            “So, Bro.  What’s it like to tap that firm hot ass?”

            Dad almost choked on his cake and had to take a drink of water to get it down.  Bro smirked and crossed his arms.

            “About as delicious as eating his sweet, moist cakes.”

            Dad blushed heavily, his cheeks turning rosier than Roxy’s when she’d had champagne.

            “From what I saw upstairs, I wouldn’t doubt it for a second,” she said.  She slid her hand across the table and squeezed Dad’s fingers.  She raised her eyes to look at him and smiled.  He forced himself to meet her gaze, as embarrassed as he felt.  He reminded himself that he was in a room with two people who both had proven how much they cared about him, and he had nothing to be afraid of.

            “I am very happy with this arrangement, darling,” she said.

            Dad cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, not flinching even when Bro gave his ass a pinch.

            “I’m still not entirely sure how this is going to work…”

            Roxy shrugged.

            “However we’d like it to.  I suppose you’ll just continue visiting Bro at his place on occasions where Dave sleeps over here.”

    He took both of his wife’s hands into his, feeling her warmth, holding her tenderly.

            “You’re sure you won’t be jealous?”

            “Not if you invite me every now and then.”

            His shocked expression must have been something to behold, because both Bro and his wife chuckled because of it.

            “You…want to participate?”  His voice cracked like he was a teenager again.  His heart was feeling strange things- this was not at all what he had expected.

            “Hardly,” she said.  “I just want to watch.”

            Dad’s face couldn’t get any redder, but it made the attempt.  His wife laughed, the sound of her cheerful voice releasing him from a little of his nervousness.

            “It’s all right!  You don’t have to invite me if you’re not comfortable.”

            Dad looked at Bro in shock.

            “What do you think of this?”

            Bro shrugged.

            “I’m game if you’re game.”

            Dad shook his head, hardly believing his ears.  The three of them talked for another good hour, possibly more, while his wife and his lover assured him that this arrangement was absolutely fine by the both of them.

            “More than fine,” Roxy stated, several times, to the point that he gave in and stated that he was willing to try this idea.  On his terms.  When he said it was all right.

            By then it was past midnight.  They discussed sleeping arrangements, and Bro agreed to head home, since he’d had Dad to himself for a week.

            “I really have missed you, sweetheart,” his wife said, her voice soft and gentle as they walked upstairs together.

            “I still need to unpack…”

            “It can wait until morning.”

            “But the fish…”

            “Are in the cooler packed with enough ice for a week, I know you.”

            He allowed himself to be led to their bedroom.  He changed into a fresh, clean set of pajamas, and reveled in the comfort of being home again.  The sounds of his wife getting ready for bed in the bathroom were more relaxing than he’d anticipated they would be.  When she crawled into bed beside him she snuggled up to his chest, and he easily slipped his arms around her and held her in their favorite way.  She rested her head on his forearm and he squeezed her tightly.

            “I missed you, too,” he said quietly.  “I thought about you every day.”

            “I’ll bet,” she said, a sarcastic tone in her voice.

            “No, I mean it.” he defended.

            “I know you did,” she said softly.  “You always mean everything you say, Most Honest Man in the World.”

            “How can you possibly call me that, after what I just…”

            Her finger was pressed over his lips before he could even finish his sentence.

            “You did what you had to do,” she said.  “I don’t blame you at all.”

            “You have the most understanding, compassionate heart in the world.”

            She shrugged.

            “You make it very easy to love you, you know.”

            He laughed softly and kissed her forehead gently.

            “Nonsense.  This is why I married  _you_ ,” she corrected, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms, all of the fear and anxiety and worry that had been building up inside Dad melting away because of the love of his wife.

_________________________________________

            Dad stood in the freshly cleaned kitchen, washing his prized bakery pans by hand with loving affection in the sink. They were far too precious for the dishwasher. He heard laughter from outside and glanced up through the window to see Bro running through the sprinkler in the yard with the kids, occasionally picking up the hose to squirt them as they screamed and ran away.  He smiled softly to himself.

            “Admiring the view?” his wife’s voice said softly as she snaked her arms around his waist.

            “I love watching the kids play so well together.”

            She laughed softly against his shoulder.

            “And not the half-naked man playing with them?”

            A light pink tint rose to his cheeks.

            “Well yes, that too.”

            She kissed his cheek sweetly and picked up a towel as she began to dry the pans.

            “So…Dave asked me if he could sleep over earlier.”

            “Oh, yes,” Dad said, a bit too eagerly.  She giggled.

            “I told him no.”

            He almost dropped the glass he’d been washing.

            “I told the kids that we were too tired for sleepovers tonight,” she said, her voice mischievous enough that it made him stop to look at her.  “So they’re going to sleep over at Rose’s friend’s house.”

            He slowly moved back into motion, his wrist twisting as he washed the inside of the glass.

            “Really,” he replied.

            “Yes.  I think it will be a lovely night.”

            He set down the glass he’d been washing and swept her into his arms without bothering to dry his hands.  She giggled as he gave her a long, sweet kiss.

            “Have I told you that you’re the best wife ever?”

            She laughed again, her gorgeous face radiant with excitement and happiness.

            “Quite often.”

            “Don’t let that stop me from saying it again,” he said, and he began to work on dinner a little more quickly than before.

 

            _________________________________________

 

            Roxy giggled and stumbled a bit up the stairs of the city high-rise.  Her husband caught her in his arms, but doing so set him off balance.  He took a step back, only to find his back press into a strong, muscular chest, and gloved hands slide over his shoulders.

            “Got you, babe,” Bro whispered in his ear.  His face flushed and his heart beat faster.  Roxy laughed a little more seductively.

            “Got us both, you mean,” she said with a wink.  She righted herself and they continued their ascent up to the Strider residence.

            The kids were indeed sleeping over Kanaya’s house, and somehow during the night it had been decided that a threesome would take place in Bro’s apartment.  Dad’s nerves would not stop fluttering.  Though he’d gotten a bit used to telling his wife that he was leaving to visit Bro ‘for the evening’, they hadn’t yet accomplished her stated desire of ‘being invited’.  This would be their first attempt at that- and Dad was full of reservations.

            Bro opened the door and strode confidently in, Roxy hanging on Dad’s arm for support.

            “Do you want a beer, Mrs. Egbert?” Bro asked as he walked into the kitchen.

            “Oooh, what kind do you have?” she asked, her face lighting up.

            “Darling, I thought you said you wanted a martini?” Dad said softly.  She turned to look at him with a delighted expression on her face, and she turned back to Bro expectantly.

            “You got me.  One martini, coming up,” Bro said, as he pulled a glass out of a cabinet that also contained a pile of half-eaten bags of chips.  Bro smiled and gave her a wink as he started to mix her drink.

            “You’ve got a good man there, Rox,” he said.

            “An’ don’ I know it.” she replied.  She leaned up to place a very affectionate kiss on Dad’s cheek, and his heart melted.  She loved him.  So did Bro.  This situation was going to turn out all right; he just had to trust them.

            Bro pulled a beer out of the refrigerator for himself and downed it in twenty seconds, tossing the can into the overflowing trash.  He then walked past them, giving Dad’s ass a smack as he handed Roxy her martini.  With flushed ears he followed, into a now-familiar bedroom that was arguably much neater than the rest of the apartment.

            “You made the bed,” Dad said, a hint of pride in his voice.  Bro shrugged.

            “Anything that gets me laid.”

            Roxy giggled, much too loudly.

            “Oooh, I can’t wait for this show!” she said, plopping herself down into Bro’s desk chair.  She spun it to face the bed and crossed her legs, folding her hands in a very formal manner across her lap.

            “I’m ready.  Get to it, boys.”

            Dad opened his mouth to protest, but before a word came out, he felt Bro’s hot mouth pressing against his ear, his tongue sliding wetly over the outer ridge as his teeth grazed his lobe.

            “You won’t even remember she’s there,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive rumble.  Dad shuddered, his lips parting, and he heard his wife giggle delightfully.

            “Oh, wow.  He really likes that,” she said, and Dad felt Bro’s lips curl into a smile against his hear.

            “Mmm…I know alllll his buttons,” Bro said, dragging his tongue down the side of Dad’s neck when he said the word ‘all’, settling just above his collar bone to suck with his lips.

            Dad’s knees grew weak and he wrapped his arms around Bro to pull him closer.  He came eagerly, pressing their bodies flush against each other as his hands slid around to grab Dad’s ass firmly.

            Bro moved his lips up to Dad’s and kissed him, slow and lazy, his mouth open, his tongue searching.  Dad moaned softly and returned with his own tongue, and he heard his wife inhale sharply beside them.

            She certainly didn’t sound as if she was upset.

            Bro’s hands wandered up from Dad’s ass to untuck his shirt.  His nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons without ever breaking the kiss.  The shirt slipped from Dad’s shoulders and fell to the floor, and he heard his wife moan softly at the sight of his bare chest.  Her reacting that way to him gave him a strange feeling; she’d never before seemed sexually interested in his body.  Bro backed away a bit and let his eyes rake down Dad’s chest.

            “He is a looker, I know,” Bro said, brushing his rough palms over Dad’s bare arms.

            “Dirk! Please…”

            “Don’t you dare try to stop me from showing off how sexy you are,” he said, sliding his hands over Dad’s chest, tickling his fingers over his nipples, making Dad’s face flush hot and his breath catch in his throat.

            “Oh, I know how you like that,” Bro whispered softly, leaning forward to suck gently on Dad’s neck once more.

            Starting to lose his balance, Dad stumbled the few steps to the bed and Bro helped him fall to his back.  His feet were still on the floor, but he forgot about them entirely when Bro stood in front of him and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the tight skin stretched over firm muscles that had become so familiar to Dad.

            Dad’s vision was focused completely on Bro as his fingers slid down his own chest, teasing his own nipples and biting his lower lip with his teeth.  Dad saw his wife sitting in the chair behind Bro and it made him self-conscious about the soft whine that escaped his lips.  Bro lowered himself to cover Dad’s body, and he forgot to be shy as he felt their chests press together, felt his weight on top of him, felt Bro’s hard cock push up against his through their pants.  He raised his hips to push against Bro and wrapped his arms tightly around him, palming his ass, pushing Bro down onto him.

            Bro ground slowly into Dad, making him shudder with want, his eyelids barely open.  Dad felt Bro’s hard dick rubbing against his own and he couldn’t get enough.  He whined and pushed Bro’s ass harder down onto him, making the younger man groan in response.  Bro’s jeans were a few sizes too big and they began to slip; soon Dad was grabbing boxers instead of denim, the cloth bunching between his fingers as he squeezed.

            “What’chya waiting for, darlin’?” Bro purred, and Dad pulled Bro’s boxers down, exposing his ass directly in his wife’s view and hardly caring.  Bro rose up onto his knees to make Dad’s job easier and he made quick work of his fly.  The moment his dick was free Dad slid down to put his lips on it, eager to have that hard, warm head in his mouth.  Roxy moaned and he blushed a little more, but Bro’s groan made him not care she was there.

            Bro leaned forward so that Dad could rest his head on the mattress again.  His neck couldn’t take much of being strained, and Bro was always conscious of that.  Dad opened his mouth wide while Bro slowly pushed his dick inside, and when Dad sealed his lips around his shaft, he pulled back out.  They worked together in a familiar rhythm, Dad’s hands wandering up to grasp Bro’s thighs, Bro’s palms resting on the mattress above Dad’s head.  Roxy took a sip of her martini.

            “Fuck, that is hot,” Roxy said, which caused Dad’s eyes to unintentionally dart to her face.  She gave him a smile and a wink, and his ears burned with self-consciousness.  He was so distracted he hardly registered Bro pulling down his zipper,  so his was caught off guard by Bro’s lips pressing against the head of his dick.  Dad cried out and shut his eyes.  Bro chuckled as he kissed the tip repeatedly, teasing Dad with the heat of his breath.  He was consistently leaking precum, which Bro lapped up with long strokes of his tongue for what felt like an eternity.

            “Broooo…pleaaaaa!” Dad never finished his sentence, speaking lost to him as Bro took him fully into his mouth, sinking so low he cut off his air.  Dad whimpered as Bro sucked and pulled out, then pushed back down again roughly with tight lips.

            Dad was helpless as wet, hot pleasure surrounded him and make him forget the rest of the world.  His feelings of affection toward Bro were growing; his enamoredness drowning out all other emotions.  He was feeling incredibly in love. 

            “Oh, wow,” he heard his wife whisper.  Dad’s eyes shifted to her and he fell in love with her too; so beautiful, so sweet and kind, and here she was, appreciating how much he loved his man.  She appreciated it; he could see it on her face- it made her happy to see him like this, and his heart melted.

            “Roxy, I love you,” he said softly, and she smiled gently at him, her cheeks flushed from alcohol.

            “I love you too, sweetheart,” she said.  Bro gave Dad a long, hard suck and pulled off of his dick.

            “Don’t mind me, I’m just the whore sucking you off,” he said.  Dad lifted his hand and placed it on Bro’s cheek, his affectionate expression unchanging.

            “You know I love you too.”

            Bro smirked and gave Dad’s lips a wet, sloppy kiss.

            “You sure as fuck do,” he said, and Dad sighed at his crass language, knowing he did it just to annoy him.  “Now turn over, sweetcheeks.”

            Bro persisted, and the wet, hot strokes turned Dad back into a puddle after just a few licks.  Bro’s flat tongue pressed against him, sliding from bottom to top in long, broad strokes, and Dad started to lean back into him without even realizing it.  It wasn’t long before he was groaning.  When Bro pushed his tongue inside he keened shamelessly, and after only a few repetitions of that he was shaking with anticipation.

            “Bro, please….”

            Bro pulled back and Dad could hear the grin in his voice.

            “Please what?”

            Oh, no.  He was going to make him say it, in front of her…

            “Just ask nicely, Egbert.”

            If Dad wasn’t so turned on, he’d have been angry.  He couldn’t look at her so he kept his head lowered, staring at the red quilt.  He and Bro would speak about this later.

            “Would you please come inside me, Bro…”

            Bro nodded.

            “Sure, I’d love to fuck you, Egbert.”

            Bro knew what that word did to Dad; it was so crass, so dirty, and so  _Bro_.  He still forced himself not to show it, he still had some dignity…

            He felt Bro’s fingers slide into him, slicked cold with lube, and Dad yelped.  Bro spread it deeply and slowly, sliding his fingers up to his knuckles and fully back out again.  He was moving so slowly Dad could hardly bear it; he couldn’t stop himself from pushing back against Bro’s hand, groaning with each too-slow stroke across his prostate.  Bro’s other hand wrapped around his dick and he whimpered, all thoughts of dignity long forgotten.

            “Do you want me, sexy?” Bro’s low voice rumbled over Dad’s ears, driving him crazy.

            “Yes, oh, yes.”

            “How badly?”

            “Fuck me, Dirk.  Please, make love to me…”

            Dad heard a soft moan come from his wife, and he was too far gone to feel shy.  He remained still with anticipation as Bro’s hands left him, and he groaned when he felt Bro’s cock push against his asshole.

            Bro slowly eased in, the feeling of him filling Dad making his heart pound and his blood rush.  He leaned back into him, his elbows shaking as he felt himself stretch to allow his lover in.  He felt his ass press against Bro’s warm pelvis, and Bro reached out to stroke his hair.

            “Just beautiful,” he said, his voice a soft whisper compared to its usual cockiness, and Dad’s heart fell over itself with affection.  Bro was fairly good at holding himself together, but he was unable to keep his emotions in check when he was buried inside Dad.  All of his defenses crumbled then, and it gave Dad a sense of pride that  _he_  was the one who caused that.

            Bro’s hands rested on his hips and he pulled nearly all the way out, then thrust.

            “Oh!” Dad cried, and he shook as Bro slid out, then thrust again.

            “Ah!”

            He heard Bro’s heavy exhale each time he shoved himself in, and that became all he was conscious of as pleasure sang inside his body every time Bro pushed into him.  He wasted no time; he thrust hard and deep, making Dad’s body rock and the bed shake as their flesh slammed together.  Desire spread to every cell of Dad’s body and he shamelessly pushed back, his voice whispering “Yes, yes, yes,” to Bro’s rhythm, his cock bouncing beneath him as it dripped onto the blankets.  His elbows grew weak and his face sank to the bed as he offered his ass for Bro to take, his body drowning in heat, his mind lost in lust.

            Dad’s world became nothing but Bro; the sensation of being filled, claimed, taken, overwhelmed his every nerve.  The sound of Bro’s breath rushing every time he thrust, the feel of his fingers clasping his hips, the smell of his sweat, all surrounded Dad’s consciousness. Every time Bro grunted, Dad’s heart pounded; he knew when he was close, he could feel him growing harder, and when Bro shoved in deep for the last time, Dad almost collapsed at the sound of his soft cry.

            He felt Bro’s fingers gently comb through his hair.  He dreamily opened his eyes, and that was when he remembered that his wife was watching them.  He looked up into her face, dazed beyond coherency, and she winked and gave him a wave.  Her face was flushed, her ears bright red, her martini is long gone.  Dad had no feelings to describe this situation but he hardly cared.  He was too lost in the moment to worry about the acceptableness of their behavior; it wasn’t important.  He was in love, with both of them, and they were both with him; and that was all that mattered.

              Dave practically lived at their house anyway, and Dad didn’t think he’d complain about a breakfast of waffles.

His heart was light and his song jubilant as he knocked on the door.  He had let all of his reservations go last night, and had been rewarded with love and affection from two of the most important people in his life.  He felt free from some tremendous burden that he hadn’t been aware he was carrying, but now that it was gone, he felt almost as if he could fly.

            “Dad, Dad, can we stop for pancakes?” John yelled, bouncing in the back seat of the car.

            “What?  You’d prefer restaurant pancakes over my homemade waffles?”

            John’s eyes grew wide and his face lit up.

            “You’re gonna make waffles?”

            “Well, I thought I would, but since you said you wanted pancakes…”

            “No, no, I want waffles!  Waffles, Dad, please?”

            Dad smiled; it felt good to have his cooking be desired.

            “I don’t know.  Why don’t we ask everyone else what they think.  Dave?”

            “I totally want shitty pre-boxed pancake mix over your twelve-generation perfected waffle recipe passed down the line of Egberts since the last ice-age,” Dave replied.

            “Right, that’s one more vote for waffles,” Dad said, too cheerful to even reprimand Dave for his language.

            “And Rose, what is your vote?”

            She didn’t reply.  Dad turned to glance over his shoulder to see her leaning her forehead against the window, gazing blankly out at the passing houses.

            “Roooooooooooooooose,” John said, poking her arm.  She elbowed him back, making him rub his ribs.

            “Right, pancakes it is,” Dad said.

            “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!”

            Mr. Egbert chuckled to himself as he pulled down their street, his heart joyful, though he made a mental note to pull Rose aside later to ask if she was alright.

  _________________________________________

 

            He found her later that afternoon, sitting in her usual spot underneath the big maple tree in the back yard.  The boys had gone to ride their bikes somewhere and no one else was home, so Dad felt it the perfect opportunity for a little father-daughter heart-to-heart.  She glanced up as he walked towards her, but looked back down at her book when he approached and said nothing when he sat beside her.

            “Now I know you like your privacy, and you’re perfectly entitled to it,” he began.  He spoke very differently with her than he did to either of the other kids; she responded best when he spoke to her as equals, as two adults talking, rather than to the fatherly type of tone he usually took with John.

            “But you seem troubled by something, and I wanted you to know that I noticed, and I’m here for you to talk to about it, if you feel so inclined.”

            She wordlessly plucked a blade of grass and set it into the crease of her book, then slowly folded it closed and set it on the grass before her.  She looked out at the yard for a while, and Dad knew she was formulating her response, so he sat patiently and waited.

            “I came to a realization last night,” she said, and Dad felt himself tense.  He was concerned about when, or even if, to inform the children of his relationships with Bro; he and Roxy had spoken about it a few times, but had not yet made any decisions on how to approach the matter.  He wondered often if the kids would simply figure it out on their own, and of the three of them, it was most likely to be Rose. 

            “I’ve been turning this idea over in my head for a while, analyzing it as best as I can, and I’ve come to a conclusion,” she said.  Her voice was even, but soft- softer than it usually was.  Dad sensed hesitation when she spoke, and he braced himself for whatever it was that might come out of her mouth.

            “I’m worried about my mother’s reaction the most, I think,” she said, and Dad’s heart stopped.  She must have figured out something.

            “…and I’m worried about your reaction the least, Dad.”

            He frowned.  His reaction?  It dawned on him that she was possibly talking about something else.  He tried to ignore his nerves.

            “So I’m going to ask you to keep this confidential, just between us, until I’m ready to tell everyone else, okay?”

            He looked at her with utmost sincerity.

            “Of course.”

            She closed her eyes, her freckles coming out a bit in the sunshine.  The wind blew the short strands of her hair across her forehead, which was furrowed with wrinkles.

            She opened her eyes and steered her purple irises directly at him.

            “Dad, I’m fairly certain that I’m…in love…with Kanaya.”

            He saw the fear on her face, the uncertainty…and the hope.  His heart swelled with compassion.  He knew what she felt.  He knew what it was like to be in her position, so young, and just figuring herself out.  And he knew exactly what to say.  He gave her the warmest smile he had.

            “That’s lovely, Rose.”

            Her eyes narrowed and she searched his face for any amount of insincerity- but there was none there. 

            “…really?”

            He nodded and put his hand on her shoulder.

            “Yes, really.  Being in love is a wonderful experience; though I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”

            She looked down at the ground as a small smile came to her lips.

            “Yeah.”

            “Well I don’t believe I’ve ever met Kanaya.  What’s she like?  What makes her so deserving of the love of Rose Lalonde?”

            Rose rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion, but she was unable to chase the smile that was spreading across her lips.

            “She’s brilliant, Dad.  I can carry on an intelligent conversation with her for  _hours_ , and she’s so engaging, and thoughtful, and beautiful, and…” he saw her blush, and he laughed good-naturedly.

            “Well, it sounds like I need to meet her.  We should have her over for dinner as soon as possible.  I will bake her a cake, in the shape of a heart…”

            “Daaaad, no!” Rose cried, horrified, before she looked up and saw his joking expression.  She frowned and punched his arm, and he laughed.

            “Got you.”

            “Ugh!  You know, it’s your fault John is so insufferable!”

            “I thought you said Dave was insufferable.”

            “He is, too!  They both are!  All boys are!”

            Dad laughed and rose to his feet.

            “I can’t disagree with you,” he said.  “I will stop bothering you, then.”

            “Dad, I didn’t mean  _you_.”

            “Oh, I know.  But I really do have to start making dinner, whether Kanaya is coming or not.”

            Rose sighed heavily and rolled her eyes again, and was greeted by nothing but a smile from Dad.

            “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to anybody,” he told her.  “But I can say this: you don’t have to worry one bit about what your mother will think.”

            Rose gave him an incredulous look, and he crossed his heart.

            “I promise.  When you’re ready, you tell her, but it’s going to be just fine.”

            Rose nodded, looking uncertain but less troubled than she had been during the car ride home.  Dad turned to walk back into the house, but was followed by footsteps a moment later and two thin arms wrapping around his waist.  He turned around and returned the hug, holding his daughter tightly.

            “Thanks, Dad,” she said softly, and he gave her a squeeze, his heart almost unable to contain the happiness that he felt in this moment, on this day.  So many good things had happened to him, all at once, and it was almost too much.

            “Of course, Rose,” he said.  She looked up at him and smiled brightly.  “You know you can always count on me.”

            “You’re the best, Dad,” she said.  “I’m so glad I have you.”

            “I’m glad I have you, too,” he replied.  “I’m glad I have you all.”

            He was incredibly grateful for his family- all of his family; John, Rose, and Dave, Roxy, and yes, even Bro Strider.  Or rather, especially Bro Strider; for teaching him who he really was; for making him a better father, for making him a better man.


End file.
